00004300737 



€l)t Qtscrt anil tljc lalg lant 



P3TNTED BY AIRD AXD COGEILL FOR 
"W. OLEPHAXT AXD CO., - - ' - - - EDETBCKGH. 
HAMILTON, ADA3IS, AXD CO.. - - - - LOXDOX. 
DAYH) ROBERTSON, GLASGOW. 




WILLIAM OLIVttANT AM) 0°*" EDlMiL'KGH 18SB. 



THE DESERT 

AND 

THE HOLY LAND. 



BY 

ALEXANDER WALLACE, D D. 

Author of 

"THE BIBLE AND WORKING PEOPLE," "POEMS AND SKETCHES," &c. 



4 



EDINBURGH: 
WILLIAM OLIPHANT AND CO. 



1868. 

c/ 



GLASGOW : 

AIRD AND COGHILL, PRINTERS AND STEREOTYPERS, 
ARGYLE STREET. 



$0 

PETER COATS, Esq., 

W 00 D S I D E , 

IN GRATEFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF 
HIS WARM AND DISINTERESTED FRIENDSHIP, AND IN MEMORY OF THE 
HAPPY AND INTENSELY-INTERESTING DAYS SPENT TOGETHER IN 

THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND, 

SMS ¥ fltttttt* 



IS MOST CORDIALLY 



INSCRIBED BY 

THE AUTHOR. 



PREFACE. 



In the following pages all controversy as to disputed sites, or 
about the ancient and modern topography of J erusalem, has been 
studiously avoided. Discussions upon these points may be left 
to the Exploration Committee, whose important labours have 
been already attended with very gratifying results. I have not 
attempted to pass beyond the domain of simple narrative and 
description. Humourous incidents have not been withheld 
when they tend to illustrate Eastern life and manners, or give 
variety and interest to the narrative. To some minds this may 
seem scarcely in keeping with the sacred character' attached 
to certain localities. My object, however, has been to state 
what I saw and how I felt, so that this book is nothing more 
than a record of impressions received and incidents that took 
place, in the midst of scenes teeming with the most hallowed 
associations that can appeal to the human heart. 

It would be presumptuous for almost any writer on the East 
to imagine that he could throw any degree of originality 
or novelty into his descriptions, further than what may be 
expected from his own peculiar way of looking at things, and of 
stating his impressions. I claim nothing more than this for the 



viii 



PEEFACE. 



present volume ; and if any apology is needed for its appearance, 
when so many books exist on the same subject, I can at least 
refer to the unanimous request for publication made by a large 
meeting at the close of a series of lectures which I lately 
delivered on the East. 

The journey was quite an era in my life, and afforded me 
intense delight. The writing out of my Journal for the press 
has given me almost as much pleasure, for this labour of love 
has led me again amongst the old and fondly-cherished scenes, 
though in a somewhat different way. I can truly say with the 
poet that these sacred localities — 

"Have not been to me 
As is a landscape to a blind man's eye: 
But oft in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din 
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them 
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, 
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart; 
And passing even into my purer mind, 
"With tranquil restoration." 

The route taken to Palestine was not what may be termed 
the easy and ordinary one, by sea to Jaffa and thence to Jerusa- 
lem, but across the Gulf of Suez, through the Sinaitic Peninsula 
to the Covenant Altar at Sinai, and from that by Nakhul to 
Gaza, on the borders of ancient Philistia • then along the coast 
to Askelon, and the old seaport formed out of a bit of rugged 
reef at Jaffa. The route from this embraced the usual places 
of interest in the Holy Land, with the addition, perhaps, of a 
few days spent on Mount Carmel. 

Prominence has been given to the Desert, and this is a part 
of the journey which may still possess some features of special 



PEEFACE. 



IX 



interest, even for those who have dipped largely into books of 
Eastern travel. 

A few extracts will be found in the Appendix from a poem 
entitled " The Pyramids," written long ago, when I had not the 
slightest idea that I would ever have the pleasure of visiting 
the land of the Pharaohs. These extracts may perhaps help to 
invest with additional interest the brief description given of 
these mighty structures in the third chapter. At all events, I 
rejoice at the present opportunity of associating that poetical 
effusion of earlier days with this narrative of a personal journey 
recently made to the Pyramids themselves — on this occasion not 
a trip of fancy, but of plain matter of fact. 

The marked success which has attended the indefatigable 
labours of Mrs. Bowen Thompson in connection with the British 
Syrian Schools at Beyrout, and other places on the Lebanon, 
must be very pleasing to all who are interested in the Christian 
education of females in that land to which the whole of Chris- 
tendom is so much indebted. Special reference has been made 
to these Schools in the thirteenth chapter and in the Appendix, 
with the view of enlisting increased sympathy and effort on 
their behalf. 



Glasgow, 2Wi November, 1867. 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Frontispiece — Interior op Jerusalem from -the North. 
Vignette — Absalom's Tomb. 

Mount Sinai — Convent of St. Catherine. - - - page 115 

The Mount op Olives, - - - - - - - 223 

Plain op the Jordan, looking towards the Dead Sea, „ 271 

Bethlehem, - - - ,, 289 

Group of Scholars in the British Syrian Schools at 

Beyrout, 399 



CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. 



MARSEILLES TO CAIRO. 

PAGE 

A RAPID RUN — MARSEILLES — OUR FELLOW-PASSENGERS — SIR MOSES 
MONTEFIORE — CAPRERA — GARIBALDI — MALTA — MALTESE DIVERS 
— SUNRISE ON THE MEDITERRANEAN — SHIPS SALUTING AT NIGHT 
— STIRRING SCENE AT LANDING — RAMLEH — RUINS — SIGHTS OE 
ALEXANDRIA — IMPRESSIONS OE THE DELTA, - - - 17 



CHAPTER II. 

CAIRO. 

SHEPHERD'S HOTEL — HANGERS -ON — DONKEY BOYS — 'STREETS AND 
SIGHTS OE CAIRO — DONKEY RIDES — BAZAARS — PLACES OF IN- 
TEREST — MOSQUES — MOSLEM ZEAL — COPTIC SERVICE — PROMISING 
YOUTHS — NUMBER OF COPTS — COPTIC QUARTER, - - 36 



. CHAPTER III. 

SAKHARRA— MEMPHIS— THE PYRAMIDS. 

HASSANAINE EFFENDI — OUR DAHABYEH — SAIL ON THE NILE — TOMBS 
OF SAKHARRA — MEMPHIS — VISIT TO THE PYRAMIDS— STRANGE 
SCENE IN THE KING'S CHAMBER — ONSET FOR BAKSHEESH — HELIO- 
POLIS — THE VIRGIN'S TREE — MAHARAJAH-DHULEEP-SINGH AND 
HIS BRIDE— OUR CONTRACT— SCENE AT THE RAILWAY STATION, 
CAIRO — OFF TO SUEZ, 52 



Xll 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER IY. 

SUEZ TO TEE WELLS OF MOSES. 

TAGE 

MAJOR MACDONALD — ICE IN THE DESERT — MEDICAL DEGREE OE 
HAKEEM PASHA — EIRST NIGHT IN THE DESERT — OUR DINING 
TABLE — ARAB SHEIKH — MUSTAPHA THE COOK — OUR ATTENDANTS 
MOHAMMED AND ACHMED — AMEERIE — HOTSPUR — THE VENTRILO- 
QUIST — OUR CAMELS — FUNERAL AT SUEZ — EIRST CAMEL -RIDE- 
DRESS OE THE BEDOUINS— SKETCH OE OUR ENCAMPMENT, - - 71 



CHAPTER Y. 

WELLS OF M OSES TO MOUNT SINAI. 

WONDERFUL TINTS — WELLS OF MOSES — MORE ICE IN THE DESERT — 
DELIVERANCE OF ISRAEL AT THE RED SEA — MARAH — ELIM — 
WADY USEIT — WADT TAYIBEH — ENCAMPMENT BY THE RED SEA- 
WORKSHOP OE THE CYCLOPS — DESERT SCENERY — WADY MEGARAH 
— MAJOR MACDONALD'S HOME IN THE DESERT — THE WRITTEN 
VALLEY — WADY FEIEAN — THE BEDOUIN PARADISE — MOUNT 
SERBAL — THE UNFORTUNATE KID — THE SHEIKH'S PRESENT — 
ARRIVAL AT SINAI, ' - 90 



CHAPTER VI 

CONVENT OF ST. CATHERINE AND ENVIRONS. 

CONVENT OF SAINT CATHERINE — CELEBRATION OE EASTER — SABBATH 
AT SINAI — GIVING OF THE LAW — JEBEL MOUSA — RAS-SUFSAFEH — 
ANTIQUITIES OF THE CONVENT — AN ARAB SUPPER — DEPARTURE 
FROM THE CONVENT — SHEIKH'S TOMB — RELIGIOUS INDIFFERENCE 
OF THE BEDOUINS — LETTER-CAE RIER IN THE DESERT, - - 115 



CONTENTS. 



xiii 



CHAPTER VII 

A DAY IN THE DESERT. 

PAGE 

A DAY IN THE DESERT — MORNING'S WORK— QUARRELS OF THE ARABS 
— AN UMBRELLA CATASTROPHE — RHETORICAL AMUSEMENTS — 
HAPPY THOUGHTS— FAMISHED BEDOUINS — CAMPING GROUND — A 
BEDOUIN BUTTER MERCHANT — INTENSE THIRST — THE MIRAGE— 
HAGAR AND ISHMAEL, 131 



CHAPTER VIII. 

SINAI TO GAZA. 

wilderness of el-tih — curious formations — agreeable dis- 
appointment—sand-storm — arrival at nakhul — american 
triumph — Shakespeare's anniversary — a hated sheikh — 
locusts — borders of the desert — night visit — bedouin 
horsemanship — flitting-day — two ishmaelites — our guide 
stolen — approach to gaza — ramble through the town — 
telegraph poles — howling dervishes— farewell to the 

DESERT, - 14& 



CHAPTER IX. 

GAZA TO JAFFA. 

.ANCIENT PHILISTIA — HER FIVE ROYAL CITIES— RUINS OF ASKELON — 
TRIUMPHS OF THE SAND-DRIFT— SCENE AT MEJDIL — ASHDOD — 
EKRON — LIFE IN A TOMB — PLAIN OF SHARON — APPROACH TO 
JAFFA — FESTIVAL OF TABITHA — AMUSING SCENES IN JAFFA — 
HOUSE OF SIMON THE TANNER— DOING BUSINESS IN THE OLD 
SEAPORT — STRANGE SIGHTS AT THE WATER-GATE— DOG-FIGHTS 
ON THE HILL, ' - - - - - 171 



xiv 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER X. 

JAFFA TO JERUSALEM. 

PAGE 

WORSE THAN A DOG-FIGHT — DEPARTURE PROM JAFFA — PHOTOGRAPHS 
AT A WELL— BETH-DAGON — RAMLEH — VIEW FROM THE TOWER — 
LYDDA — THE LOST PLAID — SYRIAN FEVER — PASS OF BETH-HORON 

— SAGACITY OF THE ARAB HORSE — A LILY AMONG THORNS — 
APPEARANCE OF THE COUNTRY — NEBY SAMWIL — FIRST VIEW OF 
JERUSALEM — IMPRESSIONS — GIBEON — APPROACH TO JERUSALEM 
— PIC-NIC PARTIES — DAUGHTERS OF ZION — MARKS OF THE CURSE 

— CITY WALL — WITHIN THE GATES — FIRST NIGHT IN "THE 
DAMASCUS," 189 



CHAPTER XL 

JERUSALEM AND THE HOLY PLACES. 

HOLY SEPULCHRE — SACRED FIRE AT EASTER — VIEW FROM THE 
MOUNT OF OLIVES — CHURCH OF THE ASCENSION — BETHANY — 
SPOT WHERE JESUS WEPT — GETHSEMANE — JERUSALEM AT NIGHT 
— BISHOP GOB AT — HARAM ES - SCHERIFF — MOSQUE OF OMAR — 
WONDERFUL ROCK — MOSQUE OF AKSA — SUBSTRUCTURES — TOP OF 
THE CITY WALL — CAPTAIN WILSON'S ARCH — VIEW FROM THE 
GOVERNOR'S HOUSE — CONVENT OF THE CROSS — VALLEY OF HIN- 
NOM — POOL OF SILOAM — PALACE OF CAIAPHAS — SABBATH IN 
JERUSALEM — LONELINESS OF JESUS — VIA DOLOROSA — FESTIVAL 
OF THE MACCABEES — EXCAVATIONS UNDER THE CITY — WAILING 
PLACE, - ' - 21 £ 

CHAPTER XII. 

THE JORDAN AND THE DEAD SEA. 



EXCURSION TO THE JORDAN AND THE DEAD SEA — ARMED ESCORT — 
OUR HORSES AND MULES SEIZED — TRIUMPH OF LORD CLAREN- 



CONTENTS. 

DON'S SEAL — OFF TO JERICHO — BATH IX THE JORDAN— DEAD SEA 
— PHYSICAL ASPECTS OF THE GH6R — CONTENT OF MAR SABA — 
ROW AT BETHLEHEM — GROTTO OF THE NATIVITY — SOLOMON'S 
POOLS — HEBRON — ABRAHAM'S OAK — CAYE OF MACHPELAH — 
MOSLEM FANATICISM — ANOTHER BUSINESS TRANSACTION — GLA^s 
MANUFACTURE — VALLEY OF URTAS — LOCUSTS — BETHLEHEM RE- 
VISITED — THE WELL OF DAVID — EACHEL*S TOMB — RETURN TO 
JERUSALEM — FAREWELL, 

CHAPTER XIII. 

NAZ ARETE AND THE LAKE OF GALILEE. 

BAD ROADS — ABOU GOOSH OR KIR JATH-JEARIM— BIRTHPLACE OF THE 
PENITENT THIEF — CONTENT OF RAMLEH — MOSLEM CALLS TO 
PRAYER — JAFFA AGAIN — OESAREA — HAIFA — SIR AN GE QUARTERS 
— CONVENT OF MOUNT CARMEL — SITE OF ELIJAH'S SACRIFICE — 
FORD OF KISHON— NAZARETH — MOUNTAIN HOME OF JESUS — HIS 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH — CARPENTER'S WORKSHOP — MAGNIFI- 
CENT PANORAMA — MEMORABLE ACCIDENT — FESTIVAL OF CORPUS 
CHRISTI — TAWDRY PROCESSION — YOUNG ARAB CHIEF — BENI 
SAKAR AND ADOUAN TRIBES — TURKISH MISRULE — MISSIONARY 
EFFORTS AT NAZARETH — WRETCHED PEASANTRY — LAKE OF 
GALILEE— TIBERIAS— CHOLERA — SAIL TO TELL HUM— RUINS OF 
CAPERNAUM — ON TO SHEFA 'AMAR — ACRE — PROCESSIONS — QUEER 
CONSUL — BRITISH T.ARS — BEYROUT — MRS. THOMPSON'S BRITISH 
SYRIAN SCHOOLS, --------- 205 

CHAPTER XIV. 

LEBANON AND DAMASCUS. 

OVER THE LEBANON — EARLY START — APPROACH TO DAMASCUS — 
STREET CALLED " STRAIGHT : ' — PAUL'S CONVERSION — VIEW OF 
THE CTTY FROM A NEIGHBOURING HEIGHT — RICHLY-DECORATED 



xvi CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

HOUSES — STRANGE CONTRASTS — MODE OE DOING BUSINESS — 
COURT OE THE HOTEL DEMETRI — CHRISTIAN QUARTER — MASSA- 
CRE OE 1S60 — NOBLE EFFORTS OE ABDEL KADER — DOGS OF DA- 
MASCUS — mr. tristram's description oe the city — dancing 

AND HOWLING DERVISHES — INSCRIPTION ON THE GREAT MOSQUE 
— BACK TO BEYROUT — COMMUNION SERVICE — ON BOARD THE 
"AUSTRIA" — TURKISH HAREEM — CYPRUS — HAREEM THE SECOND 
— VISIT TO RHODES — ANCIENT' STREET OE THE KNIGHTS — DE- 
LIGHTFUL SAIL — CHIOS — A TRAGIC STORY: BARBARITY OE THE 
TURKS, - - 329 



CHAPTER XV. 

TWO WEEKS IN A TURKISH LAZARETTO. 

GULF OF SMYRNA — QUARANTINE — UNNECESSARY ALARM — NIOBE IN 
TEARS — VIEW OF SMYRNA — FIELD OF TROY — LAZARETTO OF 
ABYDOS — COLD RECEPTION — STRANGE MEDLEY — UNCOMFORTABLE 
QUARTERS — INSECT POPULATION — FIRST NIGHT OF QUARANTINE 
— RUSSIAN PILGRIMS — SLAVE MARKET — SCENE AT BATHING — 
THE DOCTOR'S DIFFICULTIES— BABEL RENEWED — SABBATH SER- 
VICES — ALL NATIONS REPRESENTED — MELANCHOLY THOUGHTS — 
FREE ONCE MORE— A BIT OF DOGGEREL — VISIT TO DARDANELLES — 
IMMENSE GUNS — OFF TO CONSTANTINOPLE — MAGNIFICENT VIEW 
OF THE CITY — SHORES OF THE BOSPHORUS — SCUTARI — SCENE AT 
THE "SWEET WATERS" — BAZAARS — PRINCES ISLANDS — FARE- 
WELL TO STAMBOUL — DISAPPOINTMENT AT ATHENS — HOMEWARD 

BOUND, - - - - - 352 



APPENDIX. 

EXTRACTS FROM "THE PYRAMIDS" — PROPOSAL FOR ERECTING A 
PROTESTANT CHURCH AT NAZARETH — "THE SEA OF GALILEE " — 
ORIGIN OF THE BRITISH SYRIAN SCHOOLS UNDER THE CHARGE 
OF MRS. THOMPSON— INSECT POPULATION OF TIBERIAS, - - 381 



THE 

DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



CHAPTER I. 

A RAPID RUN — MARSEILLES — OUR FELLOW PASSENGERS— SIR MOSES MON- 
TEFIORE — CAPRERA — GARIBALDI — MALTA — MALTESE DIVERS — SUN- 
RISE ON THE MEDITERRANEAN — SHIPS SALUTING AT NIGHT— STIRRING 
SCENE AT LANDING — RAMLEH — RUINS — SIGHTS OF ALEXANDRIA — 
IMPRESSIONS OF THE DELTA. 

T was towards the end of February, on a bright 
morning of keen frost, when the Campsie Hills 
were still streaked with snow, that we left 
behind us the smoke of the city, and set out 
to visit the sacred scenes of the East. A few words will 
carry us over the first stages of our journey. On to 
London — across the channel to Paris — night train to 
Lyons, which we pass in the grey dawn — sweep along 
the vine-clad banks of the Ehone, which every now and 
then flashes upon our view in winding curves or in long 
stretches, made glad with fruit-trees already in blossom, 
till at last we reach the noble maritime city of Mar- 
seilles, the gate of the "Great Sea." 

A neighbouring height commands a fine view of the 
city, its old forts, its spacious harbours, its vast shipping; 
its grey houses with their red tiles; the mountains that 

B 




18 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



enclose it with their bare chalk cliffs; its six thousand 
villas, beautifully situated in the well-wooded suburbs; 
the rocky islands in front that guard this great sea gate 
like so many sentinels; the flags of all nations floating 
in the breeze, which, by the by, is as soft and genial at 
the commencement of March as the breath of June is at 
home. These are but a few touches of memory that give 
only a very faint idea of this splendid panorama. A 
prominent feature in it is the new and magnificent palace 
of the Emperor, a well merited gift from the citizens, for 
next to the Capital there is no city in France in which 
the imperial genius and enterprise for new and spacious 
streets and magnificent buildings have been of late more 
strikingly displayed. This glorious view, the fine weather, 
the prospect of Eastern travel, send us on board the 
Poonah, one of the Peninsular and Oriental Company's 
fine steamers, in excellent spirits. 

Our ship is a little world in itself; and we are not 
long on board till we find a great variety amongst the 
passengers as to social position, profession, history, and 
character. Some are Indian officers who have been home 
on furlough, and are now returning to their regiments ; 
some, young men going out to fill important commercial 
situations in India; some, newly-married couples, and 
these most sacredly keep by themselves, not collectively, 
but in single pairs — make no new acquaintances, why 
should they? — pace the deck most lovingly, and are, of 
course, as they ought to be, during the honeymoon at 
least, all the world to each other. God bless them ! 
Their faces are still before us — their confiding looks all 
sunshine, love, and bright hopes. Not much more than 
twelve months have passed; what and where are they 
now ? We felt specially drawn towards an old and very 



SIR MOSES MONTEFIOEE. 



19 



venerable-looking gentleman, who was accompanied by a 
select party of friends. This was the celebrated Jewish 
philanthropist, Sir Moses Montefiore,* who has done so 
much for the land of his fathers, and who was now on his 
way to it for the sixth or seventh time. Seldom have we 
met with a finer specimen of a good old man; and the 
evening talks we had together on deck about Palestine 
and the present condition and prospects of the Jews, gave 
a special charm to that voyage, which will ever be a 
pleasant memory. He was so liberal and tolerant in his 
views that controversy was kept at a distance ; and had 
we not heard him addressed at first by his title, when 
one of his friends spoke to him, we might have taken him 
for a worthy old Secession minister from the country. 
He was scarcely ever seen without a Hebrew psalter in 
his hand, or a book of prayer in that language ; and he 
spoke with great delight of the growing interest that 
was felt throughout Christendom in his fatherland. 
Often did he express an earnest desire to improve the 
condition of his brethren who had found their way to 
Jerusalem. He was the centre of attraction to all on 
board, especially to those who were going to that city; 

* The following particulars, gleaned from a paragraph that has lately- 
appeared in several newspapers, will be interesting to our readers : — 
Sir Moses Montefiore, whose mission to Roumania has just betn crowned 
with success, is upwards of eighty years of age, having been born in 
1784. This venerable an I honoured Hebrew, who has acquired a world- 
wide reputation for philanthropy, and his many journeys to distant 
countries on behalf of the oppressed of his race, has thus crowned the 
achievements of a noble life. In his eightieth year he undertook a 
similar mission to Morocco, and was equally successful. His wife 
Judith died in 1882, without issue, so that Sir Moses has no child to 
succeed him in his title; but the name of "Montefiore" will always 
be honoured and respected in England, while his philanthropic labours 
will be admired by all nations. 



20 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



and on one occasion, when we were all gathered around 
him, it was truly affecting to see his old, kindly face 
glowing with delight as he quoted the words of the 
prophet from his Hebrew Bible : " Thus saith the Lord 
of hosts, In those days it shall come to pass, that ten 
men shall take hold out of all languages of the nations, 
even shall take hold of the skirt of him that is a Jew, 
saying, We will go with you : for we have heard that 
God is with you" (Zech. viii. 23). 

We had also pleasant intercourse with the friends who 
accompanied the venerable knight, especially with Dr. 
Lcewe, an excellent Arabic scholar, and with Dr. Hodg- 
kin, an eminent physician. It was with great surprise 
and sorrow that we heard, on reaching Jaffa, after leav- 
ing the Desert, that the latter had died of diarrhoea in 
that town, and was buried in the cemetery there. This 
sad event was so trying to Sir Moses that he was ob'iged 
to cut short his visit and return home. The good doctor 
had a fatherly care over our own health ; and on parting 
with him at Alexandria, he gave us many excellent 
advices as to the caution that is needed in an Eastern 
climate; but we little thought that he was to succumb 
so soon to that disease about which he warned us with 
so much characteristic kindness. Sir Moses, in his own 
printed journal, has borne testimony to the worth of his 
friend ; and we, too, wish in this passing tribute of 
respect to add our own stone to the cairn of grateful 
memories cherished in many quarters in connection with 
the name of this "beloved physician." 

On the day after we left Marseilles we were steaming 
through the Straits of Bonifacio, with Corsica on the 
one side and Sardinia on the other. The very name of 
the former brought up vividly the wondrous career of 



GARIBALDI. 



'21 



Bonaparte, that stirred the world to its depths.- In the 
narrowest part of the Straits we seemed to be completely 
landlocked. It reminded ns of the Kyles of Bute, with 
this great difference, that the scenery in the Straits is 
much more wild and rugged, and on a grander scale. 
It was a lovely sail. All eyes were turned towards a 
small island with shattered peaks, that looked bare and 
desolate as seen from the deck. On a rising ground, at 
no great distance from the shore, there is a range of 
Buildings like a farm steading, with extended wings, and 
more than the usual supply of outhouses. That rocky 
island is Caprera, and that house is the dwelling of the 
illustrious patriot, Garibaldi. The excitement of many 
became intense as the house of the General was pointed 
out. Several, with glass in hand, rushed to the captain's 
gangway, although this was understood to be forbidden. 
The boatswain stood at the extreme bow of the ship, 
surrounded by a group of passengers. With much en- 
thusiasm he pointed out the house, and spoke in glowing 
terms of its distinguished occupant. All hearts were 
touched, and if there was not a loud British cheer, a 
silent '"'God bless him !" at least, was breathed by not a 
few. Next day, when passing a lonely, bare, and rugged 
island, the boatswain pointed to it as one of the prisons 
where the late King of Naples had confined political 
offenders ; and here again our weather-beaten friend re- 
ferred with honest pride to the General: "Ay, he smashed 
the prison doors ! That island now looks beautiful. I 
never passed it without a shudder when the poor fellows 
were there !" 

At midnight our ship's guns were fired and blue lights 
thrown up. We had reached Malta, made famous by the 
shipwreck of Paul, and in later times by the history of 



22 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



the Crusades and the Knights. The Poonah was to sail 
early next morning, but surely we might see St. Paul's 
Bay, some twelve miles off. There was beautiful moon- 
light to back our resolution, and this in Malta has pecu- 
liar charms; but it was after midnight, and there were 
sundry head-shakings and shruggings of the shoulders, 
and looks that were fax on the other side of persuasive, 
and hints about banditti and " barbarous people," so the 
charms of a full moon, added to all the attractions of 
history, only succeeded with two of the passengers, the 
writer and his friend. 

Having landed, we passed through one massive arched 
gateway after another, leading to the strong fortifica- 
tions for which the island is famous. After consider- 
able difficulty we succeeded in getting a conveyance at 
one of the hotels, and set out for the bay shortly after 
one o'clock. The fortifications seemed to be endless, but 
at last we gained the open country, shining all over with 
white rocks and countless lines of white stone dykes, 
so that the whole island, gleaming in the moonlight, 
seemed to be covered with snow. The chill of such a 
thought was but for a moment ; for although it was 
in March, there was a genial softness in the midnight 
air, and several clumps of orange trees in front of the 
hotel were bright with luscious fruit. Any one with 
time and means at his command might very easily cut 
the winter out of his year by repairing to this island in 
cuckoo fashion. The poet sings of that mysterious bird — 

" Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, 
No winter in thy year." 

As to the " no sorrow " part of that bird's life, man 
cannot expect to find this anywhere ; but if the dreaded 



st. paul's bay. 



23 



winter of the north is left behind, Malta will welcome the 
human " bird of passage " to its genial summer clime. 

But yonder is the bay. — We dismounted, and sat down 
on the silent shore ; and it required no effort of imagina- 
tion vividly to recall the whole scene of the shipwreck, 
and the closing crisis of it, connected with this spot, and 
described in the following words : — "And falling into a 
place where two seas met, they ran the ship aground; 
and the fore part stuck fast and remained unmoveable, 
but the hinder part was broken with the violence of the 
waves" (Acts xxvii. 41). Mr. Smith's admirable treatise 
on the voyage and shipwreck of St. Paul — a treatise 
remarkable for its profound learning, ingenuity, and re- 
search — has finally settled the question as to the scene 
of the shipwreck. Confident of this, we sat down on 
the silent shore and picked up a few pebbles and shells 
as memorials of our visit. The bay lay calm and like a 
sheet of silver before us, presenting a striking contrast 
to the storm which drove Paul and his companions into 
its boisterous waters. While thus engaged, a half-naked 
and most uncouth-looking Caliban — for such he appeared 
to be by moonlight, which made him all the more wildly 
grotesque and savage-looking — dropped suddenly upon 
us with noiseless tread, for his feet were bare. Our first 
thought was of the scriptural expression, " the barbarous 
people." This specimen, we concluded, must be a de- 
scendant. We could not make out a single word of his 
strange tongue, but by his signs we soon discovered that 
his great anxiety was to get us to follow him to his 
wretched cabin at hand, where he wished to do a little 
stroke of business in his own way. Even at St. Paul's 
Bay, at three o'clock in the morning, we were not per- 
mitted to enjoy in quietness our own thoughts, or to 



24 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 

stroll about on the shore, without being importuned and 
annoyed by a native merchant of a most sinister aspect. 
We went with him into his hovel, and felt relieved when 
he offered us some fish teeth, shells, and other relics for 
sale. He was a beauty compared with his wife, and a 
few rapid purchases brought us out of their clutches. We 
felt thankful even for the hurried look we had got of the 
scene of Paul's shipwreck by moonlight. 

On returning, we drove up to a magnificent church 
with a large dome, all built of beautiful white stone, 
a few miles from Valetta. This building had the appear- 
ance of a mass of silver in the moon's pale beams. It 
never occurred to us that we could get in to see it at 
such an early hour — not yet five o'clock — but as we stood 
in front admiring its fine proportions, several figures, 
wrapped in the Maltese faldetto, came up and glided in 
at one of the side doors. We followed, and were greatly 
astonished to find the vast area of the church dimly 
lighted, priests at the altar, many men and women 
kneeling on the floor at their morning devotions. The 
glimmering lights, the early hour, the murmur of many 
voices at prayer, the black covering worn by the women, 
had a very striking and, we must confess, an impressive 
effect. There seemed to be an element of earnestness 
worthy of a purer faith. 

We got into Valetta by six o'clock, and proceeded to 
examine thi immense fortifications, many of them cut 
out of the solid rock. The lions of Malta would require 
a volume. The most of our spare time was given to 
the church of St. John and a few other very interest- 
ing buildings. From a high rampart we had a most 
magnificent view of the harbour and the town, the 
island stretching all round in dazzling whiteness. The 



3IALTESE DIVERS. 



25 



balmy air, the orange-trees laden with their golden fruit, 
the deep blue sky, without a film of mist or a cloud over- 
arching this brio;ht 2'em on the bosom of the sea, formed 
a very striking contrast to the biting east winds, the 
smoke, the raw and rnurky atmosphere, and to what 
Cristopher North used to call the "cut-throat hoar" of 
our northern land. Yaletta swarms with priests, and 
some of them have a most forbidding look. On passing 
throuo-h the streets, the lan^uao-e and the dress of the 
people, the style of the houses and the delicious climate, 
announced to us that we were on the threshold of orien- 
tal life, in the transition city between the Eastern and 
the Western World. 

On reaching our ship, shortly before the anchor was 
raised, we were much amused at the amphibious nature 
of some Maltese boys, who were all but naked, and who 
kept paddling about in little boats. They were excellent 
divers, and with most imploring looks and earnest entrea- 
ties they besought the passengers who were looking over 
the bulwarks to throw pieces of money into the sea. The 
moment a coin was dropped into the deep blue waters, 
one of these boys would plunge down head foremost, and 
in a few seconds bring it up in his mouth. A sea bird 
could not go down into the depths more gracefully than 
these young divers. No sooner was the piece of money 
which the} 7 had fished up from the bottom taken from 
their mouths than they were instantly clamouring for 
more. There is many a way of earning a penny, but we 
had never seen it dived for before. Whatever amuse- 
ment, however, this might furnish the passengers, it was 
a matter of life or death earnestness — a very hard 
struggle for daily bread — on the part of the poor boys, 
who really looked half-starved. 



26 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



After leaving Malta we had some very beautiful sun- 
sets. How rapidly the sun seemed to sink in the ocean, 
leaving a wide-spread golden radiance, over which the 
curtain of night was speedily drawn, and the bright stars 
came out, flashing on the forehead of the sky above the 
masts and shrouds ! Sunrise was still more glorious. In 
the east the sea was a vast plain of brightly burnished 
gold, which changed by and by into a dark red. Here 
and there, on this background of shimmering splendour, 
lay small clouds that seemed like crimson islands resting 
on the bosom of this ocean of blood. Then came the 
golden rim of the great globe of fire, its quivering rays 
shooting upwards from the deep. By and by a greater 
breadth of this world of sparkling sapphires shot up- 
wards, and in a little the whole mass of the flaming orb 
appeared, all sharply cut and clearly seen in the myriad- 
darting rays of dazzling brightness, the lower edge still 
dipping on the wide waste of waters, now made exceeding 
glorious by such a presence. What was the far-famed 
" Field of the Cloth of Gold " compared with this ? The 
scene was in some respects even more striking to us than 
the glorious sunrise which we once witnessed from the 
summit of the Rhigi; for although there was the entire 
absence of the Oberland peaks, the sun seemed to be 
lifted out of a sea of liquid gold, and drawn up by some 
invisible hand into the floating clouds above, which 
looked like so many crimson islands. The god which 
multitudes of our race had worshipped stood revealed in 
all his glory. If any form of idolatry is more excusable 
than another, it is surely the worship of the sun. 

When standing on the gangway, in company with a 
few of the passengers, admiring this sublime spectacle, we 
made a remark somewhat similar to this, but it seemed 



SHIPS SALUTING AT NIGHT. 



'27 



to shock one of them as something profane, and the look 
he gave us was such as he might have bestowed in pity 
and contempt upon some ignorant and benighted tire- 
worshipper. His ideas of this grand sight may be 
gathered from the following ejaculations, which were 
frequently repeated, and which compelled us at last to 
give him as wide a berth as we could. We leave out 
several slang phrases : " Well, 'pon my word, he's doing- 
it in fine style ! " " He's a-taking of his Sunday bath ! " 
(it was Sabbath morning). " He's a famous old salt ! " 
" He's well washed, but he's spoiled his complexion ! " 
etc., etc. — Such a sight should either be seen entirely 
alone, or in company only with kindred spirits. 

On the third night after we left Malta, our good ship 
received a very friendly recognition from another that 
was passing in an opposite direction, and at a consider- 
able distance. This cordial greeting was made by a fine 
display of rockets and blue lights on board a return 
ship belonging to the same company as our own. There 
must have been a little rivalry, too, as well as kindly 
salutation, for the ship in the distance continued to 
throw up rockets and burn blue lights long after the 
Poonah was exhausted. 

All this was very pleasing and suggestive on the wide 
waste of waters, and made us think of those who were 
returning home from the far East, and of the friends 
who were anxiously waiting for their arrival. Many 
miles lay between the two ships, but neither darkness 
nor distance prevented the mutual expression of good 
wishes. By means of our signals we stretched out to 
cne another a long arm to shake hands and to say, 
"God bless your voyage!" The two ships were soon 
lost to each other in the darkness, but the feelings which 



28 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



this mode of recognition awakened would continue to 
throb in many hearts long after the signal disappeared. 
It was such a touch of genuine feeling as makes the 
world kin, whether by sea or by land. A chord was 
struck in the great common heart, which would vibrate 
for a long time. It does so in our own at this moment 
as we write these words, and think of the seemingly 
trifling incident which brought the two ships together 
in feeling, though actually far apart. God grant that it 
may be so when this feverish, fitful life is quenched in 
darkness ! May some be left to feel that our feeble light 
and brief life have not been in vain ! 

The low lying coast of Egypt, with its undulating 
mounds of yellow sand, crept slowly into view. The 
pilot, who came on board at Malta, now took charge of 
the ship, and soundings were frequently made, the sailor 
boys taking great delight in running out and pulling in 
the line. The site of the old lighthouse of Pharos — the 
palace of the Viceroy — the fortifications here and there 
— the minarets and the mosques — the shipping in the 
harbour — and now and again Pompey's Pillar, seen 
through openings in the masts, were conspicuous ob- 
jects. But all our interest in them for the time was 
lost in a scene of hubbub and confusion, into the midst 
of which we were thrown all at once, when our ship 
was fairly over the bar and the anchor dropped. A 
crowd of canoe-shaped boats came alongside, every one 
containing two or more bearded and bare-legged boatmen, 
dressed in the picturesque garb of the East, which took 
not a little management on the part of the wearer to 
make it behave itself in the presence of foreigners. All 
these boatmen were jabbering in Arabic, or in some other 
unknown tongue, at a terrible rate, and using every pos- 



SCENE AT LANDING. 



29 



sible gesture of which the human body is capable, even in 
such a loose garb, to induce us to employ them to carry 
the luggage ashore. Take all the verbs in any language 
you can muster in connection with human uproar, and 
all these put together and shouted with the greatest 
emphasis, and by the most stentorian voice, could convey 
no idea of the Babel strife of this extraordinary scene. 
A writer, when recently describing the roar of London, 
made use of the following emphatic words: "hubbub, row, 
shindy, clatter, rumble, jingle, hammer, bang, clash, howl, 
squeak, screech, yell, rattle, whistle, gurgle, rush, hulla- 
baloo ;" and something like all these sounds intensified 
and rolled into one great Arabic guttural, accompanied 
with the prodigious power of oriental gesticulation, as- 
sailed us the moment the crowd of boats reached the 
side of the ship. When the boatmen came on board 
and seized the luggage to carry it off; and when they 
commenced to fight, and sprawl, and bawl, and howl, 
and roar, and shout, and struggle, and dance, and scream, 
and jump, and yell, and pull, and push, and tug, and 
rush about like furies, throwing their arms wildly around, 
and all but coming to hard blows; and when — as vic- 
tory seemed to tremble in the balance — the screaming 
became still more discordant, baffling any achievement 
of human lungs since the dispersion at Babel, the scene 
was one which set all description at defiance. It was 
onr first taste of Eastern life, at which we stood for a 
time thoroughly bewildered. 

There was even a fiercer renewal of hostilities when 
our luggage reached the shore. The combatants rushed 
on pell-mell, and wildly fought for the bags, portman- 
teaus, and boxes, as if these had been their own. All 
this was a matter of course to them ; it was needless to 



so 



THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



get angry; it was far better to let them fight it out in 
their own way, although we feared our hapless luggage 
would be torn to pieces when so many hands were 
pulling at this strap and the other; so we sat down on 
a stone and lauo-hed outright at the strano-e melee of 
arms, and legs, and turbaned heads, and Rembrandt- 
looking faces, all wrought up into a wild frenzy. The 
scene became even more ludicrous when one of our party 
rushed into the midst of the tumult and shouted a few 
emphatic words in Gaelic, or what was intended to re- 
present that language. The effect was similar to that 
which was said to take place when Neptune raised his 
head above the angry waves. The Arabs looked first 
amazed, and then broke out into laughter. The storm 
gradually subsided, and our luggage at last was got safely 
off. No, not yet. We were stopped in a little by some 
officials connected with the Customs, but a baksheesh 
soon got over this difficulty. Off we went, congratu- 
lating ourselves that it was all smooth sailing now. We 
were mistaken. An Italian, the commissionnaire of a 
party on board, accompanied us, and as he was subjected 
to a rather strict examination, even to his pockets and 
the small bag slung round his neck, he swore most 
dreadfully, wrought himself up into frantic rage, and 
threatened to shoot or stab the officials. They imagined 
he was employed by us ; and after bearing all his rage 
and fury with the most imperturbable gravity, they 
would have detained us probably for the night, had we 
not succeeded in making them understand that we had 
nothing to do with the commissionnaire, who was still 
raving like a maniac. At last we got safely off, and in 
a few minutes more found ourselves in the " Prince of 
Wales' Hotel." 



RUINS AT EAMLEH. 



31 



Bad as Cologne is said to be for smells, we never found 
it nearly so offensive as Alexandria during our short visit. 
It was very pleasant to get out to Ramleh, near the shore, 
and enjoy the pure air of the desert and the bracing breezes 
from the sea. Here we found a pleasant group of happy 
home circles from our own country, and made the ac- 
quaintance of the Rev. Mr. Yuille, the excellent missionary 
at Alexandria in connection with the Church of Scotland. 
He took us to see the ruins of a temple recently uncovered 
when an excavation was made near the beach. The pillars 
are in a remarkable state of preservation. The sea has 
been gaining so much upon the land in this neighbourhood 
that a portion of the outworks is under water. 

We also visited another ancient ruin, called by the 
name of Caasar's Camp, where there is a piece of tes- 
selated pavement, kept under lock and key in a house 
built over it, for the purpose of preserving this ancient 
relic. It was here that we picked up, for the hrst time, 
a Bedouin for a guide. His black tent of goat's hair was 
but a short way off. Under his guidance we reached 
a little station-house on the Ramleh railway. The heat 
was oppressive, and the only official we could see about 
the place was another son of the desert, who was lying 
outside, stretched all his length before the door, in a 
profound sleep ! Our Ishmael woke him up without 
much ceremony. This was a railway station, and this 
was the station master ! Notwithstanding his Rip Van 
Winkle appearance, it was truly pleasant to see the tele- 
graphic wires stretching from post to post, and the long 
lines of iron rails shooting into the desert, and gleaming 
in the sun. Is not this the highway spoken of by the 
prophet that would be made through the desert? The 
prophetic announcement, at least, was very forcibly sug- 
gested to our mind. 



32 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



Of course we visited the lions of Alexandria, such as 
Pompey's Pillar, Cleopatra's Needle, the bazaars, and the 
palace built by Mehemet AIL In the large open space 
near this building, several wretched-looking men were 
chained to large blocks of wood. They were criminals, 
but were permitted to clamour for baksheesh, which 
they did most importunately. A Maltese dragoman acted 
as our commissionnaire during our stay in the city ; and 
one day as we were walking through the bazaars, we 
paused for a little to hear an Arab merchant reading the 
Koran, as he sat cross-legged at the front of his shop, 
which was not much larger than a good sized bed. He 
raised his head and muttered a few words, which so 
enraged our guide that we feared there would be a 
fight at once. When we urged the Maltese to move 
on, he explained the reason of his anger by saying, 
"He call you and me Christian dog!" The reader re- 
sumed his see-saw motion over his book, but all the 
threats and curses of our guide could not force him to 
speak again. 

We were frequently amused at night, when walking 
the streets, to see the watchmen coiled up in a rough 
cloak, and dozing away near the property which they 
were set to guard ! Some were following out the same 
plan of vigilance in boxes not unlike bathing machines. 
This style of watching reminded us of the words of the 
prophet, " His watchmen are all dumb dogs ; they cannot 
bark, sleeping, lying down, loving to slumber." We 
looked in at one of these boxes, and found a strange- 
looking Dogberry coiled up in his cloak. He was not 
so sleepy as he seemed, for he did growl and bark with 
such fury that we were glad to get quickly off. 

Several funerals passed us in the streets during our 



EGYPTIAN FUNERAL. 



33 



"brief stay. There was no coffin, the body being placed 
in a wooden frame, not unlike a small truckle-bed. A 
covering was thrown over it, and some ornament, con- 
sisting of cloth wrought into the form of a turban, was 
placed at the head. This bier or bed was borne to the 
grave by several persons, and the whole funeral proces- 
sion joined now and then in repeating, in melancholy 
tones, some sentences from the Koran. We once heard a 
young sceptic trying to raise what he thought an in- 
superable objection to the miracle of our Lord restoring 
the widow's son to life, because the body, as he said, 
was enclosed in a coffin fastened by so many screws ! 
The objection was pitiful and paltry in the extreme. 
Even had there been anything like our coffin, there 
could have been no difficulty to Almighty power; but 
the body of the widow's son lay open on the bier, as 
is the custom still in the East, and there was no wood 
enclosure between him and the life-giving words or 
touch of the Prince of Life. 

We visited all the mission schools in connection with 
our own country and America, and were delighted at the 
signs of progress we witnessed. On one form sat two 
jet black boys from Ethiopia, amongst others belonging 
to Greek, Mohammedan, and Jewish parents. Their pre- 
sence brought up the passage, " Ethiopia unto God shall 
stretch out her hands." In the sewing-schools for the 
girls it was specially pleasing to see the progress made in 
industrial habits, and the excellent use they were making 
of their needles. 

On leaving Alexandria by railway we seem to be 
shooting through the water, for the line is formed on a 
long embankment on the lake Mareotis. By and by as 
we rush on we get quit of the "lake district" and the 

c 



34 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



embankment, and out into the real soil of the country, 
the general features of which we now try to group 
together in few words. Villages of mud huts, with their 
grey heavy bulging walls, like a large boiler built in 
clay, which rain might easily wash down, but which 
stand long in this dry climate ; women and children 
squatted at every door, the former looking actually 
hideous in their frightful face-trappings ; towns here and 
there of considerable size, with narrow and populous 
streets ; great crowds at every station, most of them 
pilgrims, and carrying their beds and provisions, on their 
way to some moslem festival ; mosques and minarets, 
white-washed dome-shaped tombs sacred to the memory 
of some saint or another, and looking like a mass of 
chalk. 

Start again : — pass more collections of mud huts not 
unlike dung heaps, with holes run into them for human 
beings to enter ; on through mud - flats, and swamps, 
and marshes dotted over with buffaloes feeding ; long 
stretches of meadows made amazingly fruitful by the 
sun-quickened slime which the river leaves behind after 
its annual rise, richer far than all the bone-dust and all 
the guano-fields in the world ; browsing cattle half-buried 
in the rich pastures ; camels with mountain loads of green 
crops; fat kine, as in the days of Pharaoh, feeding on 
the river's brink, or standing in it up to the knees, 
very dreamy-looking, like the river itself flowing lazily 
through this vast dream-land, as if dozing and dreaming 
all the way. The fact is, you begin to wonder if you 
are not dreaming yourself as you look upon that old 
calm river ; upon these heavy oxen, with their eyes 
standing out in fatness, a striking contrast to the lean 
ragged peasants or fellaheen in the fields; upon these 



IMPKESSIONS OF THE DELTA. 



35 



graceful palms shooting up like so many obelisks, and 
throwing out at the top a beautiful crown of leaves, 
through which you see a sky of peerless blue ; upon 
these Nile boats, with their lateen sails, moving slowly 
along, as if afraid they would come too soon to the end 
of the river. It seems all a dream — a dreaminess in air, 
and earth, and sky — till the scream of the railway 
whistle startles you from your reverie, and you find 
yourself at another station, and amongst another floating 
mass of turbaned heads of various colours. 

Off once more : — Cairo the next station. Steam-plough 
turning up the rich soil; the very land for steam- 
ploughs ; what a contrast to the old primitive-looking 
stick, also at work, and drawn by oxen ! the shadoof 
and the sakia everywhere raising water from the river 
to irrigate the land, the exceeding greenness of which 
is becoming even greener; the former with its swinging 
pole, and stone, and bucket — the latter with its wheel, 
and pitchers, and plodding oxen, going round and round 
as in a dream ; more mud huts, rich meadows, fat cattle, 
and graceful palms; luxuriant greenness that reminds us 
of Goshen, or of Kobert Hall's saying when he described 
the scenery around Cambridge as ' f a well filled meal 
tub ;"- — all this was repeated again and again during our 
journey of some six hours ; but the above impressions of 
the scene are about as much as we can now recall from 
the kaleidoscope of memory, as we think of our first rail- 
way drive in the land of the Pharaohs. 



CHAPTER II 



SHEPHERD'S HOTEL — HANGERS-ON— DONKEY BOYS— STREETS AND SIGHTS 
OF CAIRO— DONKEY RIDES — BAZAARS — PLACES OE INTEREST — MOSQUES 
— MOSLEM ZEAL — COPTIC SERVICE — PROMISING YOUTHS — NUMBER OF 
COPTS — COPTIC QUARTER. 

N entering Shepherd's Hotel at Cairo, the first 
thing that will probably strike a stranger is 
the large number of "hangers-on." At every 
corner, passage, and door, you are met with 
some bronzed or black face, some turbaned head, some 
representative of the guide, dragoman, or commissionnaire 
tribe, from the large boned Albanian, dressed in his 
gayest attire, and with scrupulous care (a costume which 
plainly says that he is determined to take no denial 
in his application for employment — in short, that you 
must take him, and no other), down to the little donkey 
boy, in his dusty shirt of calico. They have all this in 
common, that they are most anxious to serve you, do 
anything for you, in their own way, which, in the most 
of cases, is to confuse and pester you beyond all endur- 
ance. But you are in the East, and you must make up 
your mind to stand any amount of fretting work, and 
see all you can. The sights are so new — so entirely 
different from all your former experiences, that you are 
prepared not only to endure a great deal of irritation, 
but actually to laugh at it and enjoy it as part and 
parcel of the East ; — in short, it would not be the East 




DONKEY BOYS. 



37 



without it. Having settled this in your nrind, you are 
greatly taken with the donkey boys, whose acquaintance 
you make the moment you appear in front of the hoteL 
As to age, they may be some years out of their " teens," 
or they may be just entering them, or even somewhat 
younger. We liked the junior specimens best. Large 
numbers are collected in the space in front of the hotel, 
with their donkeys, which, with their soft saddles 
covered with red cloth and flashy trappings, have a fine 
appearance. The donkeys are, on the whole, well kept, 
and have a great deal of humour in their own way. 
For antic drollery of a most demonstrative character 
the boys have no equals. They are as sharp and 
keen as they are playful and waggish. And yet these 
same boys become very dull and stupid as they 
advance in life. This may be accounted for from the 
want of education, or from the absence of some higher 
kind of employment. We have heard the government 
of the country blamed, and also the evil influences 
to which they are exposed. They have all picked up 
some few words of English; and the twinkle of their 
eyes, and the grin of humour on their face, and, above 
all, their pronunciation, are exquisitely droll. " This be 
one berry good jackass!" "Mine good donkey!" and 
then follows a list of names, such as "Billy Button," "Tom 
Jones," " Prince of Wales," " This be Prince of Wales' 
donkey!" and if they "guess" you to be an American, 
the donkey's name is at once changed into " Yankee 
doodle !" which is pronounced with the greatest emphasis. 
You can call a cab in Cairo if you like, and get a lithe 
Deerfoot of a Nubian to run before you in Eastern.fashion 
— a custom which, by the by, we often saw on the streets, 
where a cab or a carriage was almost in every case pre- 



38 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



ceded by a forerunner, dressed in a very light garb, and 
with a white rod in his hand — but we preferred to 
patronise the donkey institution. We can conceive of 
nothing that can so thoroughly lift a man out of the 
rut of all his former experience, ideas, and feelings — out 
of the worry of his work-a-day life — than a donkey ride 
through the streets and bazaars of Cairo. This is the 
very thing for any one overwrought with brain work, 
or weary and worn out with the dull, plodding, jog-trot 
routine of life at home. If this does not give him a 
new sensation, and turn him completely out of the " even 
tenor of his way," out of all his former self, nothing will. 

Instead of calling a cab you engage a donkey, and 
sally forth to the bazaars, or anywhere else you please. 
A word about the streets before taking our ride. 
These are so narrow that, without anything like the 
length of Rob Roy's arm, you may shake hands across 
them ; and you are reminded of Burns' description of the 
auld brig of Ayr, "where twa wheel- barrows tremble when 
they meet." These narrow crooked streets are so nume- 
rous, and cross each other so frequently, that a large 
honeycomb cut at random, and in every possible direc- 
tion, by a blind man, would be no inapt illustration of 
them in miniature. In the most of the houses a room 
in the upper story is thrust out half way across the 
streets from either side. These are very quaint-looking 
projections, the wooden frame being in many cases 
most elaborately carved, and presenting fine specimens of 
lattice-work. One of the most frequent shouts in the 
streets is that of the donkey-boy when he sings out in 
prolonged accents " Reglak ! " — " mind your feet there ! " 
but Ave found our heads, when riding, more frequently in 
danger from these projecting apartments. They serve, 



DONKEY EIDES. 



39 



however, to shut out the fierce heat of the sun ; and they 
have withal a most antique appearance, These needle-eye 
streets have never known the art of Macadam, nor the 
torturing processes of the pavier, with his recent addi- 
tions of boiling layers of asphalt. They are literally 
swarming with crowds of people, and yet, for the most 
part, they are kept wonderfully cool and moist, and in 
a much better sanitary condition than you would expect 
to find them. The fierce glare of the sun is to a great 
extent shut out by the narrowness of the streets and the 
projecting upper stories. The water-carrier lays the dust 
with his goatskin slung across his shoulders, and troops 
of hungry dogs act as scavengers by picking up all the 
oifal they can find. 

And now you select your donkey from a crowd of most 
importunate and clamorous boys, each good natu redly, 
and with great drollery, praising his own with all the 
English adjectives of commendation he has at his com- 
mand. Thwack ! and off you go at a merry canter, 
with your donkey-boy shouting behind, and bringing 
his stick at intervals thwack ! thwack ! over the flanks 
of the poor beast, and uttering every now and then a 
repetition of rather rough and emphatic epithets regard- 
ing its pedigree. It was just as well we did not under- 
stand them at the time. You are not aware when the 
blow is to fall from behind ; but the donkey, from long 
experience, seems to know, for it makes a sudden spurt 
to evade it, and ten to one gets away from between your 
legs altogether. A more serious danger arises, however, 
from the crowds in the narrow streets. No one deems 
it his duty to keep out of the way of another ; he holds 
on ; you must keep out of the way, and take care of 
yourself. Very likely, before you know where you are, 



40 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



you get thrown between the legs of a camel bearing a 
most awkward burden of projecting stones and sticks; 
from which, in the effort to back out, you are upset 
into a couple of panniers swung on the back of a mule; 
or you nearly capsize that lady who is riding Adam 
fashion on a donkey ; or you get jammed against a 
bullock or a cart; or you run tilt against another rider; 
or graze your shins on some rude vehicle; or you get 
hopelessly entangled in a dead lock, surrounded by mules, 
donkeys, oxen, camels, men and women, who struggle 
out of the dire entanglement; and then, such a shouting, 
screaming, pulling, and thwacking, all mingled with the 
most ludicrous appeals to the Prophet ! 

Amusing collisions are very frequent at those places 
where the narrow streets cross each other. One morning, 
when proceeding to the bazaars, our guide Basheia was 
riding before us with a swaggering and dread -nought 
air, when all at once we saw him knocked over as if 
shot. He was going at a quick canter when, just at 
the point of intersection in the narrow street, another 
rider came up as fast at right angles. They pitched into 
one another with a crash, Basheia suddenly coming to 
grief. But this is such a common thing that it is only 
a stranger who laughs at it. There was something very 
exciting in the whole of that morning's ride. Every- 
thing was so entirely new — the quaint old bazaars; the 
strange style of buying and selling ; the queer-looking 
band-box appearance of all the little shops or stalls ; the 
merchants sitting cross-legged on a mat in front of them 
smoking their tchibouk or drinking coffee, and taking 
business with true Mohammedan coolness and gravity; 
the various artificers at work in the quarters appropriated 
to their respective trades; water-carriers, donkeys, mules; 



BAZAARS. 



crowds of people with turbaned heads (these turbans had 
always a peculiar charm for us) ; women waddling about 
in their great yellow or red slippers, or riding upon 
donkeys, and appearing like great unshapely bundles of 
silk or cotton, inany of them in white, and with their 
faces closely veiled — all these and other phases of Eastern 
life in the narrow streets, not only reminded us of the 
" Thousand and One Nights," hut actually formed a living 
representation. 

The bazaars are truly marvellous places in the East. 
Often did we select a corner in one of them, and stand, 
when we could get standing room, and let the stream of 
life flow past. Every now and then some venerable old 
man passes on his ass, and as you look at his thoroughly 
oriental dress, his long white beard and massive wrinkled 
brow, you are reminded of Abraham or some of the old 
patriarchs, and you cannot help saying, " There goes 
Abraham !" Time and all its changes have affected but 
very little the manners, customs, and dress of the East. 
We look back with great pleasure to the bright mornings 
and the donkey rides we had through the strange old 
streets and crowded bazaars of Cairo, presenting every- 
where the most striking features of Eastern life. These 
morning rides were the source of great enjoyment, and 
even had the finest carriage in Egypt been placed at our 
service, with a Nubian forerunner and a black eunuch 
and all, we certainly would have preferred this famous 
institution of the jackass. 

We visited all the places and objects of interest that 
are usually seen by strangers, such as the island of Rhoda, 
where tradition affirms the infant Moses was found by 
Pharaoh's daughter and her companions; the Nilometer, 
a graduated pillar, on the same island, for measuring the 



42 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



rise of the Nile, one of the most ancient relics of a remote 
age ; Boulac, the government foundry and museum there, 
the latter containing a rich collection of Egyptian anti- 
quities. A simple lad, who offered to be a guide — 
whose complacency and slowness of movement were most 
provoking — took us to see Joseph's granaries, which, he 
assured us, still existed; but he never found them, and, 
in vexation at his own stupidity, and under pretence 
that he himself had been led astray, took to beating 
the donkey boy who accompanied us, as if he were to 
blame because J oseph's granaries could not be discovered I 
We also went to the tombs of the Caliphs and of the 
Mamelukes; to the gardens of Shoobra, and the beautiful 
kiosk there, the elysium of Mehemet AH ; to a farm that 
bears the name of Goshen, most appropriately given, for 
it seemed to be in the best part of the land. Here we 
spent a pleasant afternoon at a friend's house, in com- 
pany with Mr. Palgrave, the celebrated traveller in cen- 
tral Arabia. We returned to the city by the Shoobra 
road, through a blinding sand drift, which made us cease 
to wonder that ophthalmia was so painfully frequent. 
Total or partial blindness is very common; and redness 
of eyes is everywhere in this country, not from "tarrying 
long at the wine," but from exposure to the hot sun and 
sand. We often pitied the children sitting in the narrow 
streets, or on their mothers' shoulders (the Eastern mode 
of carrying a child), for the eyes of the poor creatures 
actually seemed to be eaten out by the flies. We seldom 
saw one without a swarm of these tormentors all but 
closing up the sight. The child naturally puts up his 
hands to defend himself, and as they are generally gluti- 
nous with some adhesive sweetmeat or another, a portion 
of the tempting stuff is left about the socket, and thus 



VISIT TO THE MOSQUES. 



43 



it is often black with flies, the eyelashes gone, and the 
sight in many cases rapidly following. 

We went several times to the citadel, and were always 
more than delighted with this never-to-be-forgotten view 
of Cairo, with its countless minarets, some of them the 
perfection of lightness and grace ; in the background the 
desert and the pyramids, lifting up their hoary heads, the 
giant sentinels of an old world. T\ T e spent some time in 
the famous mosque built by Mehemet Ali, whose tomb is 
near the entrance. Innumerable lamps are suspended 
throughout this immense building. The whole space 
seemed to be about as large as St. Paul's in London. 
Like all the other mosques which we afterwards saw, 
there is not a single seat or bench, but straw or rush 
mats are spread upon the floor, and on these the faith- 
ful go through their devotions. There was only one 
Moslem in the whole building when we entered, and 
he was lying in a corner profoundly asleep. Another, 
like a labouring man, came in, and he began a great 
variety of bowings, kneelings, and prostrations at the 
back of a large pillar. It is a magnificent building, 
but notwithstanding all that has been done to produce 
a striking effect (and for this no cost has been spared), 
we could not help thinking it had a melancholy look 
about it. All the mosques had the same dull, negative 
appearance, and in this respect they resemble the reli- 
gion which they represent. 

"We went to all the principal mosques in Cairo, and 
they seemed to be as much used for the purpose of a 
siesta as for devotion. In all of these we found sleepers 
coiled up on the mats, and were reminded of what the 
German peasant said to Doctor Biichsell, his pastor, who 
was delighted to find his parishioner amongst the handful 



44 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



of worshippers, " There are too many flies in the house 
for me to get rest, but in the church it is fine and cool. 
In winter there's never any need why I should come !" 

Before entering the mosques, we were, of course, obliged 
either to appear in our stocking -soles, or to draw a 
large pair of slippers over our shoes. These slippers are 
generally provided at the entrance. To the Mohammedan 
the command is still as binding as ever, "Put off thy 
shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou 
standest is holy ground." In no mosque were we in the 
least degree subjected to any unpleasantness but in the 
Azhar, which is the college of Cairo, and where the Koran 
is particularly studied. It is a large building supported 
by numerous columns, which run along the sides of the 
interior. At almost each of these columns we found a 
professor seated, and expounding the Koran to a group of 
youths and others more advanced in years. Many were 
lying asleep here and there on the floor — many idlers 
were lounging about. We had scarcely entered when 
we were followed by a crowd, who left their teachers, 
not from mere curiosity, but evidently for the purpose 
of making our visit unpleasant and very brief. The 
scowling looks and muttered threats of not a few 
were a clear indication of this. The official, however, 
who took us in charge, did his best to keep the 
crowd at a respectful distance, but not without using 
the white rod which he carried. We had a govern- 
ment order and a janizary, and had, therefore, nothing 
to fear ; but the old fanatical spirit has not yet died out. 
We were told by a friend who has been long resident in 
Egypt, that when he visited this same mosque a few 
years ago, two Imams were standing at the entrance, 
and not for a moment thinking that he understood this 



MOSLEM ZEAL. 



45 



language, the one said to the other, loud enough to be 
heard, "Had I my will, that Frank would not come out 
with his life." 

Strange to say, our janizary, or police official, was 
guilty of a great indiscretion, which very nearly brought 
us into trouble. He was proceeding to enter one of 
the mosques smoking a cigar, when several servants 
of the place, with indignant shouts, sprang upon him 
and knocked it from his mouth. On inquiry, we learned 
the janizary was a Greek, and this indecorum was more 
likely the result of inadvertence at the moment; but it 
raised a storm about our ears, and made us objects of 
suspicion during the whole of our visit to that mosque. 
He was certainly guilty of a gross outrage upon the feel- 
ings of the faithful, and they were not backward to resent it. 

One thing we could not fail to notice on the part of the 
Mohammedans was the conscientiousness with which they 
observed the stated times for prayer. It does not matter 
where they are — on the deck of a steamer, in the field 
or in the foundry — they will take their bearing towards 
Mecca, spread their seggddeh or prayer carpet before them, 
and proceed at once to go through their formula of pros- 
trations, some of which are very expressive. We have 
seen a couple of Moslems playing at chess on the deck 
of a steamer, where not a few unbelievers were looking 
on, but neither this nor the urgency of the game was 
regarded as an excuse for neglect of duty; for when the 
hour of prayer came, they would interrupt their play 
for a few moments, rise and take the proper direction 
towards the Kaabah, spread their bit of carpet, no matter 
who was looking on, go through their bowings, muttering 
at the same time the usual words, roll up the carpet, light 
their nargilehs, and resume the game. 



46 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



We went one Sabbath morning, about six o'clock, to the 
Patriarch Coptic Church. Early though it was, the service 
had already begun. The female part of the congregation 
occupied a back part of the building, separated from the 
rest of the church by a partition of lattice work. All 
who were present, with the exception of the officiating 
monks or priests, sat cross-legged upon mats that were 
spread upon the floor. The patriarch occupied, during the 
greater part of the service, a sort of sedan chair, with 
a great deal of rude upholstery work and gilding about 
it. He seemed to be " well stricken in years," although 
we could not very well judge of this from the way in 
which he was muffled up. He had a very dusty appear- 
ance, like the most of things in Egypt. We had the 
impression that if his garments had been shaken, there 
would have been quite a cloud of dust, such as is some- 
times raised by a Boanerges in a country pulpit. His 
vestments were rich, and oppressively heavy for such a 
hot day. Everything was covered all over with dust; 
and the Coptic form of Christianity, we could not help 
thinking, was pretty much in the same condition. 

During the service, one of the priests came forward and 
poured water upon the patriarch's hands, which stood 
very much in need of this cooling and cleansing process. 
There was no solemnity about the service; there was 
even a great lack of ordinary decorum. The chanting, 
reading, bowing, and waving of incense, which continued 
for a long time, became very tiresome. The service, we 
were told, generally lasts four hours. There was a great 
deal of reading in the ancient Coptic language, which the 
people do not understand, nor the priests themselves. 
Our dragoman professed to be a Coptic Christian, and he 
said he did not understand a single word of what was 



THE COPTS. 



47 



read in the old language, and he affirmed that this was 
the case with the priests and the people. The congrega- 
tion uttered responses now and then, and occasionally 
made free-and-easy sort of remarks to one another. We 
sat down on the mats amongst the audience, many of 
whom would have been much improved by a visit to the 
bath. Several who were rather near us for comfort or 
edification were very busily engaged in making sundry 
attempts to rid themselves of what is still, to this day, 
a grievous plague in Egypt ! . 

Three or four smart-looking boys were employed at 
various parts of the service in reading from an Arabic 
Bible. They were frequently corrected by the priests, 
and sometimes by the patriarch himself. Altogether, it 
seemed a very chatty, familiar kind of affair, accompanied, 
we were sorry to see, with a great number of Popish 
mummeries, but these were not so artistically managed 
as such things are in the Eomish church. 

A number of round cakes, about the size of Abernethy 
biscuits, were brought on a silver plate by one of the 
priests to the patriarch. He examined them all, and 
selected a few for the purpose of celebrating the mass. 
Several of these cakes were afterwards presented to us 
by one of the priests, as a token of friendly recognition. 
These had not been blessed or set apart for what they 
regard as the sacrifice of the mass. In the centre is the 
figure of a Jerusalem cross, designed to represent our 
Saviour, and around this are twelve smaller crosses for the 
twelve apostles : there are also five small holes in memory 
of the five wounds of our Lord. Eound the edge is the 
passage in Coptic, " Glory to God in the highest, and on 
earth peace, goodwill toward men." The cakes selected by 
the patriarch were carried to the altar in an inner room, 



48 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



called the Holy of Holies, in imitation of the Jewish 
tabernacle, and were there subjected to a series of mani- 
pulations, during which the reading and chanting were 
continued, and incense was burned. We sat in our un- 
easy posture till we could sit no longer ; the truth is, the 
plague to which we have already referred made devotion 
impossible, so that notwithstanding all our anxiety to see 
the conclusion of the service, we were obliged to get up 
and make for the door. 

We had no sooner got out of the church than, to our 
surprise, one of the boys whom we had heard read part 
of the lessons came up to us, and addressed us in very 
good English. We invited him to come to Shepherd's 
Hotel in the afternoon, and bring his Arabic Bible with 
him. He was delighted with the invitation, and asked 
permission to bring other two boys. He came at 
the appointed hour, accompanied by his two young 
friends, and carrying his large Arabic Bible under his 
arm. During our conversation, we asked hini if he had 
ever read the words, " God so loved the world, that He 
gave his only begotten Son," etc., etc. He turned at once 
in his Bible to John iii. 16, and read the verse to his 
companions, whilst his eyes were beaming with delight. 
On learning that the three boys were orphans, we quoted 
the words in Jer. iii. 4, "Wilt thou not from this time 
cry unto me, My Father, thou art the guide of my 
youth ?" He turned this passage up, too, and read it with 
great feeling to the other boys, and suiting the action to 
the words, he pointed to heaven, evidently referring to 
God as the Father who speaks in the text. Altogether, 
we were greatly pleased with the intelligence of these 
Coptic boys. They were intensely eager. Poor YouserT, 
who spoke to us first at the church, was nervously so. 



THE COPTS. 



49 



We promised to go and see them next day at the school 
where they were taught. They showed considerable 
Bible knowledge, and expressed a very earnest desire to 
acquire English, with the view of making themselves 
useful in the future. Nothing could exceed the anxiety 
of Youseff to get to England for this purpose. He 
had the idea that his whole future destiny depended 
upon this, but his mother would not listen to any pro- 
posal on the subject. Poor fellow! we often think of that 
eager face of his, and his earnest guttural pronunciation, 
uttering every word with a life or death earnestness. He 
and his companions got several presents, with which they 
went away quite delighted. We visited the Coptic school 
next day, and were agreeably surprised to find a large 
class of boys learning English : they could read it pretty 
well. At the request of the teacher, we examined them 
in Bible history, and their answers were, on the whole, 
very satisfactory. The teacher was a young man, who 
had been taught when a boy at one of the American 
schools ; but the temptation of a higher salary had in- 
duced him to withdraw. He would have been glad, he 
said, to introduce us to the patriarch, but he was enjoy- 
ing his siesta after dinner. While it is to be regretted 
that this young man did not remain in connection with 
the American schools, still it is very evident he is doing 
a good work in his present position, and he is but one 
of the many testimonies that might be adduced of the 
benefit which that mission has accomplished. One of 
his pupils, a very promising youth, somewhat older than 
Youseff, was anxious to join the American mission, and 
prepare himself to be a preacher of the gospel to his 
countrymen. His object has been happily attained. 
However imperfect the Coptic church may be, it has 
D 



50 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



been the means of preserving, to some extent at least, a 
knowledge of Christian truth in Egypt; and there are 
hopeful signs of an awakening, the result of which is, 
thab not a few of the people and the priests have con- 
nected themselves with various Protestant missions. At 
the communion service, which was held in the little 
mission chapel at Cairo during our visit, there were 
several Coptic monks from different parts of the country, 
who partook of the sacred rite. The Copts have suffered 
severe persecutions, and have had a hard struggle to 
maintain their separate existence as a church. Were 
they brought back to the purity of the Christian faith, 
they would yet prove as "life from the dead" to the land 
of the Pharaohs. They were the first natives of Egypt 
who received the gospel, it is said, through the preaching 
of the evangelist Mark. Various estimates have been 
made of their number. Some make it as low as 80,000 
Mr. Lane, who is an authority on modern Egypt, reckons 
them about 150,000. It is said that there are about 
10,000 in Cairo. They are scattered all over the country 
from Nubia down to Alexandria. The remains of ruined 
churches and convents show that they must have been 
far more numerous at one time than at present. 

One of the most strangely interesting places to us, of 
an ecclesiastical kind, was the ancient Coptic church 
and quarter. The narrow passages are so numerous 
and so intricate, that a stranger, once in, would have 
great difficulty in getting out. It is indeed a queer 
human burrow, like a rabbit warren turned inside out 
It would do admirably for the game of " Hide and Seek.' 
No children were playing about, but many old people 
were sitting at their doors ; several of these were monks 
and priests. Soap and water must be very scarce in 



COPTIC QUAETEE. 



51 



that quarter. We were truly sorry that we could not 
make out another visit to this curious old labyrinth. 
Our impression at the time was that we would meet 
with nothing like it in the East, but in this we were 
mistaken: we had not yet seen any Syrian village, nor 
the convent of Mount Sinai. 



CHAPTER III. 



HASSANAINE EFFENDI — OUR DAHABYEH — SAIL ON THE NILE — TOMBS OF 
SAKHARRA — MEMPHIS — VISIT TO THE PYRAMIDS — STRANGE SCENE IN 
THE KING'S CHAMBER — ONSET FOR BAKSHEESH— HELIOPOLIS — THE 
VIRGIN'S TREE — MAHARAJAH -DHULEEP -SING H AND HIS BRIDE — OUR 
CONTRACT — SCENE AT THE RAILWAY STATION, CAIRO — OFF TO SUEZ. 

EFOKE leaving for the East, we had made the 
acquaintance of Hassanaine Effendi, who had 
been resident in Glasgow for some time super- 
intending the building of a fine yacht for the 
Yiceroy. Poor Hassanaine ! he died suddenly ere it was 
completed. He was a warm-hearted, generous friend, of 
a noble nature. How often we used to talk of Egypt, 
and how earnestly he urged us to visit his native land, 
promising to do everything in his power for our comfort. 
It is with peculiar interest that we now look upon his 
handwriting at the commencement of a splendid copy 
of the "Thousand and One Nights," which he presented 
to us shortly before his death. We feel certain that the 
inscription, coming from a native Egyptian, will prove 
interesting to our readers: 

" Permit me to lay at your feet this magnificent book, describing a 
state of society that is giving way to the flow of Western civilization, 
in literature, arts, and the sciences. I beg you to accept this book as 
an expression of the esteem and friendship with which I remain, 

Your affectionate 

Hassanaine." 




XILE BOAT. 



53 



His widow, whom we found residing at Cairo with 
her 3'oung family, kindly placed a beautiful dahabyeh, 
or Nile boat, the property of her late husband, at our 
disposal. The season was too far advanced to make 
much use of it ; and as we intended to proceed through 
the desert to Palestine, we had very little time to spend 
in Egypt. This was matter of deep regret when we saw 
such a splendid boat, containing every convenience. We 
were struck with the number of apartments, and the 
handsome manner in which every one of them was fitted 
up. Nothing could be better adapted for securing com- 
fort during a long- voyage on the Nile. We resolved to 
go to Sakharra and inspect some of the ruins there. A 
captain and crew, including a first-rate cook, were got 
together on short notice. That sail is one of our most 
pleasant memories in connection with our visit. It 
was towards evening when we glided out of Boulac, 
crowded with river craft, and spread our sails to catch 
a favouring breeze, which soon died away. One of our 
companions* in that delightful sail died shortly after- 
wards, in the prime of life, and in the midst of bright 
prospects. As we moved out into the open river, it was 
with honest pride that he pointed to some fine steamers 
which had been built in his own yard on the Clyde. He 
named them one after another as he passed them. We, 
too, felt proud of that spirit of enterprise which has 
carried the name of our river to the ends of the earth. 
The whole scene was entirely new, suggestive, and most 
exciting. What a glorious sunset ! what a bright sky ! 
And then, how the palms stood out all along the right 
bank of the river, till, in the fading light, they actually 
seemed a part of the sky itself, wrought into it, and the 

* Tlie late William Tod, Esq., Ayton. 



54 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 

whole looked like one of Turner's beautiful pictures ! 
We never saw the pyramids to such advantage as on 
that clear night from the deck of our Nile boat. We 
stood and gazed at them, till, as the vessel glided on, the 
triangular space between the two became less and less, 
and they no longer stood out separately, but seemed 
to blend into one, and to form a part of the body of 
heaven itself. What a wondrous beauty was in that 
night ! And then we were on the Nile ! That old world 
river of mystery, tradition, and song, whose waters had 
reflected the ruins of a period prior to the birth of 
history ! The voices of the far past gathered around us 
in the sigh of the midnight wind, and we yielded our- 
selves to the dreamy enchantment of the hour. The 
magicians of Egypt were again at work, but these were 
now the strange elements which made up the scene that 
lay before us, and which we can never forget. It was 
with difficulty we could persuade ourselves to turn into 
bed. 

Next morning, on getting on deck, we found several 
of our men walking on the bank and dragging the boat. 
Our high notions of the previous evening were somewhat 
taken down, for this seemed to us rather an ignoble mode 
of proceeding on the Nile. The slight breeze had com- 
pletely died away, and we were utterly becalmed. It 
was no great distance to Sakharra, but the sail would be 
a very tedious one; and as our time was limited, we 
were obliged, most reluctantly, after several hours' drag- 
ging, to return, but not till we had enjoyed a long swim 
in the " sweet waters." On ascending the bank, we were 
much struck to find what appeared to be a natural ridge 
or embankment sloping up from the river, and rising 
considerably higher than the wide-spreading plain on 



VISIT TO SAKHAERA. 



55 



the other side; so that during an inundation, when the 
waters subside, they cannot flow back, but must remain 
to irrigate the land. On our return to Bouiac, the sailors 
amused us by singing several of their songs, to which 
they kept beating the darabuka, or little drum. The 
melody was plaintive and monotonous, like all the music 
we heard in the East. Poor fellows ! they did their best 
to make our short sail agreeable. They seemed to be 
simple, good-natured, and obliging, and not overtrouble- 
some about baksheesh. 

Our next visit to Sakharra was more fortunate. We 
took a carriage to Tor, on the side of the river, and 
having sent on our donkeys the previous night, we 
found them waiting our arrival on the opposite side. 
The pleasure of that day's excursion was greatly en- 
hanced by the excellent company of Dr. Lansing, the 
superintendent of the American mission ab Cairo. The 
pyramids of Sakharra, and the mummy pits containing 
the remains of the sacred Ibis in numberless pots of 
baked clay, resembling a sugar loaf, are objects of great 
interest ; but the chief recent attractions of this place 
are the Serapeum, or Temple of Apis, and the tombs 
connected with it, in which the sacred bulls were buried. 
The temple and the tombs were discovered by M. 
Mariette, a Frenchman of great enterprise, who spent 
two whole years in his researches for these wonderful 
relics of antiquity. Upwards of thirty of these immense 
stone coffins, or sarcophagi, have been uncovered, all 
in a remarkably good state of preservation. Having 
provided ourselves with an excellent supply of tapers, 
we fortunately saw the whole of these ancient tombs 
to great advantage. They are contained in two rock- 
hewn galleries like railway tunnels, the one leading 



56 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



into the other. These galleries formed the ancient 
cemetery for the bulls that were worshipped in the 
adjoining Temple of Apis. Kecesses, like side chapels, 
have been cut into the rock, and in each of these is an 
immense stone coffin, fifteen feet in length, by eight in 
breadth, and fully seven feet in height. Each coffin has 
been formed of a single solid block of black porphyry. 
The high polish, the elaborate workmanship, and the 
clean cut edges of the hieroglyphics, as if but recently 
finished, are truly wonderful. In two or three instances 
the figures are only traced, but not cut, as if the work 
at a certain point had been abruptly left off. Had the 
people begun to lose faith in this system of worship ? A 
very heavy lid of the same material lies on the top of 
the coffins. Many of these lids have been pushed back 
a few feet (by a great effort, doubtless), so that you can 
descend with a light and examine the interior. How 
strange it was to sit with a long lighted taper in the 
stone coffin of a sacred bull ! For a time, the ludicrous 
was uppermost in our mind. What a humiliating thought 
it is, that a people so distinguished for wisdom, who had 
made such advancement in the arts and sciences, who 
have left behind them ruins that are still the admiration 
of the world, should have sunk so low in their religious 
ideas, as to worship fourfooted beasts, birds, and creeping 
things, and spend the highest efforts of their genius on 
stone coffins to preserve the remains of their bestial 
gods ! These tombs, the elaborate workmanship of which 
is something beyond all our modern conceptions, are 
striking proofs at once of the glory and the shame of 
this ancient race. "These be thy gods, O Egypt !" What 
is the highest art, the greatest civilisation, without the 
knowledge of the one living and true God ! The gods 



MEMPHIS. 



57 



are all gone : for these coffins, on which such a prodigious 
amount of time, labour, and money must have been ex- 
pended, are all empty. How superior the workman was 
to the god he worshipped ! His work is as fresh and as 
highly polished at this distant date as if it had come 
from his hand but yesterday — the gods for whom all 
his genius was consecrated are dust at the bottom of 
these coffins ! When the sides of these tombs were struck 
by the hand, they gave out a clear, bell-like sound. A 
friend suggested that all the notes of the scale could be 
sounded in this way. This may be fancy; and we must 
leave others to decide as to this theory of musical nota- 
tion. Near the entrance, and under the shadow of one 
of the tombs, we took our lunch, surrounded by a lot of 
hungry Bedouins, who eagerly picked up any scrap. 

We rode over the desert to Mitrahenny, a collection of 
mud huts. This group of hovels occupies a portion of 
the site of Memphis, the once great capital of ancient 
Egypt — the city from which Pharaoh, it is supposed, led 
forth the chivalry of the land in pursuit of the hosts of 
Israel on their march for freedom. A beautiful palm 
forest now stands on another portion of that site, a noble 
burial place even for such a city. Often did we feel 
as if treading on yielding moss, or as if the ground were 
hollow beneath our feet, which is very likely to be the 
case ; and we have a strong impression that were excava- 
tions made in these mounds, many ruins would be found 
to attest the greatness of ancient Memphis. Everything 
seems to have been formed on a most gigantic scale in 
this land. Several statues were lying prone upon the 
ground. One of these was of immense size, and was 
evidently designed to represent some mighty king. It has 
all the marks of royalty. The expression of the face 



58 



THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



is one of pensive sorrow, and is in harmony with the 
desolate aspect of the whole place. The largest statue — 
certainly a most interesting relic of antiquity — was pre- 
sented to our government, but no effort, so far as we are 
aware, has as yet been made to remove it. It is better 
lying where it is, for we can conceive of nothing that 
speaks so expressively to the heart of what this land 
must once have been — of the grandeur of its achieve- 
ments, and of the desolations that have swept over it in 
fulfilment of God's word, than that statue of Rameses, 
lying amid the buried ruins of his capital. We would 
rather think of it in its present position, and retain the 
impression the sight made on our mind, than meet with 
it at any time in the British Museum. Care, however, 
should be taken that in its exposed condition it should 
not be mutilated, or, what is much to be dreaded, burnt 
by the Turks for lime, as it is formed out of a white 
silicious limestone, very hard, and capable of taking a 
high polish, which it still retains to a wonderful degree. 

Our visit to the pyramids of Geezeh was delayed till 
we could be favoured with the company of a friend who 
has been long a resident in Egypt. He presented himself 
one morning armed with a stout stick, which, he assured 
us, would be needed before the day was done. Off 
we started, and got to the side of the river. The 
scene of hubbub and confusion at crossing was nearly 
as great as that which we witnessed on landing at 
Alexandria. What a struggle took place between the 
boatmen as to which of them should take our party 
across! Our friend's use of his stick made us a little 
squeamish at first, but it stood us in good stead more 
than once that day. He could speak the language like 
a native; but in the opinion of some there is no argu- 



VISIT TO THE PYRAMIDS. 



59 



ment like a stick in the East, and he held by this. 
Not to speak of time, it saved a great deal of din, and 
happily there were no bones broken that we could see. 
We got across after a great deal of screaming, shouting, 
scolding, shaking of fists, and pulling of the donkeys 
by the heads, the tails, and the legs. An Arab held 
on most persistently by both hands to our boat, as he 
had been one of the rejected, and it was only another 
plaguy application of the stick that forced him to let go 
his hold. His gesticulations, as we glided out into the 
river, were of the most frantic and ludicrous character. 
Poor fellow ! we hope he has now no painful recollection 
of the scene. Mounting our donkeys, we had a fine ride, 
the way sometimes lying along a soft, mossy embankment, 
as if laid down on purpose for a railway; sometimes 
through a magnificent palm forest, where the trees are 
from fifty to sixty feet in height ; sometimes skirting the 
sides of barley and lentil fields ; and at last coming out 
upon a long fringe of dry, sandy bent, where there was a 
struggle between the desert and the cultivated land. For 
a long time the pyramids were right before us, and they 
seemed actually to diminish the nearer we approached 
them. Standing almost on the dead level surface of an 
immense plain, and under such a cloudless sky, and where 
there are very few objects around them to bring out the 
contrast, their enormous magnitude does not at first lay 
hold of the mind. We wished to ride up to them in 
quietness, and in silence and solitude drink in the spirit 
of the scene. This could not be done. Dozens of Arabs 
came out of a little village of mud huts near the base. 
We looked up to the top of the great pyramid, which 
covers an area of nearty twelve acres, and is about five 
hundred feet in height; and when we turned and looked at 



€0 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



the low mud huts, we received our first impression of the 
magnitude of this mighty structure, which was old when 
Moses was a boy. The Arabs wildly rushed forward, 
but they reckoned without their host, for our friend 
astonished them with his Arabic and his stick, and com- 
pelled them to give us a wider berth than they wished. 
It was, however, impossible to silence the jabber which 
they obstinately kept up. By our commander-in-chief's 
directions, two of them were told off to accompany each 
of the party. Away we went ; but we had not climbed 
far when several Arabs, who had been concealed among 
the large blocks of stone, laid claim to us, and here another 
fight took place for possession of our persons. The staff and 
the brawny arm that wielded it were left below, and our 
tormentors knew full well that they were quite safe from 
both. Our friend, who was watching our movements, 
flourished his cudgel and vehemently shouted in Arabic. 
Till matters were adjusted, we sat down on a large block 
and surveyed the scene. At last a compromise was made, 
and it was agreed that a third Arab should accompany 
each of the party and lend a helping hand. Poor fellows! 
they were not encumbered with clothing (nothing but a 
shirt) ; and after we were fairly on the way, they did all 
that possibly could be done to lighten the toil of ascent. 
They had stages where they halted a little, not that they 
needed this, but we did. "Baksheesh" was constantly 
dinned in our ears; but at each halting place a more 
importunate onset was made, and again and again we 
were coaxed to give the baksheesh here, as they pointed 
to the step on which we stood : and then with a scowl, 
and thrusting forth both hands in the direction of our 
friend below, they said : " Baksheesh here ; him bad — him 
bad; baksheesh not down — here !" We had agreed with our 



BAKSHEESH. 



61 



commander that none should be given till we came back 
to terra firma ; but on coming down, his practised eye 
soon saw that the agreement had not been kept, at which 
he was much chagrined, as the Arabs chuckled and made 
themselves merry at his expense. Getting out of the 
reach of his stick, they held up the coins they had re- 
ceived, and grinned in rapture : they felt safe, for they 
could beat him at a race. 

After all, we had very little credit in mounting the 
pyramids, for the Arabs had the heaviest part of the 
work, one pushing behind and another pulling before — 
sometimes singing a sort of chant, but more frequently 
repeating their formula for English travellers, in a kind 
of measured cadence of their own, " Englese bono, bono 
(good, good). Baksheesh, more bono. Englese bak- 
sheesh plenty !" Many of the great blocks reach as high 
as the breast, and but for the help of the Arabs, who 
are almost naked, the work of climbing would be both 
tedious and difficult. They can bound along the steps 
like goats ; and we were frequently surprised when boys, 
carrying water in clay bottles, made their appearance, 
rising suddenly up from behind a block, and running to 
us with the greatest ease. Of course, they expect a 
baksheesh for the Nile water they carry to such a 
height, and who could grudge them a few piastres? 

On reaching the summit, we found a space of about 
twenty feet square — much larger now than in ancient 
times, for many blocks were removed by the caliphs for 
the construction of mosques at Cairo. The stones on the 
top are nearly all covered with the initials of visitors. 
A small chisel and a hammer were offered to us by one 
of the Arabs, but we much preferred quietly to look 
around us, and indulge the many-coloured thoughts and 



62 



THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



ideas which our brief stay on the top of the great 
pyramid could not fail to suggest. One sad drawback 
to this was the constant clatter of the Arabs. They were 
in a frolicsome mood, and they shouted, and capered, 
and danced about, and kept us in constant alarm lest 
they would roll over the side. 

In 1839 the annual prize poem for the logic class in 
the Glasgow University was " The Pyramids," and little 
did we think when writing that poem, and reading all 
we could get upon the subject, that we would ever 
have the good fortune to stand upon the top, and look 
out upon the scene which, in fancy, we had attempted 
to describe. We were most agreeably surprised to find 
that our description, on the whole, was so correct.* One 
long dream of our life was realised, when from the summit 
we looked out upon the desert, the Nile, Cairo, and the 
Mokattam hills. Wondrous as this view was when we 
saw it in March, it must be much more striking during 
the inundation season, when villages, fields, and patches 
of ground with palm trees, appear in the distance like 
so many floating islands. 

It was only when we descended and went down the 
deep, dark incline, leading to the heart of the great 
pyramid, and when we stood in the two apartments 
which have been opened, the one called the King's and 
the other the Queen's Chamber, that we became truly 
alive to the real magnitude of this mighty structure. We 
confess that we were utterly overwhelmed with astonish- 
ment as we went down that long passage, with lighted 
tapers, and stood at last by the tomb of red granite 
in the King's Chamber. This apartment is thirty-four 
feet long, eighteen feet broad, and about twenty feet in 

* Appendix. 



STRAXGE SCENE IX THE PYRAMIDS. 



03 



height. Some workmen, natives of our own comitrv. had 
gone in before us, and as they came back shouting very 
boisterously the words of a song, which we had heard for 
the first time in Shepherd's hotel a few days before, the 
chorus being, "Slap bang, here we are again!" etc., etc.,. 
we were greatly taken by surprise. Down they came 
pell-mell, their faces gleaming in the light of the tapers, 
which every now and then they waved over their heads. 
We stood for a few moments bewildered, till we could 
make out distinctly the words of them song. The sudden 
rush and uproarious voices of half-drunk men awakening 
the echoes in the heart of this ancient tomb, had a strange 
and startling effect. It was a most unexpected union 
which was thus given to the spirit of the nineteenth 
century in one direction of fast life with a very remote 
period, which is still a puzzle. What a rude invasion of 
the awful secrecy of this mysterious building ! vThere 
was the outraged spirit of the monarch who built that 
enormous pile, in the belief that his tomb would never be 
discovered nor his ashes disturbed ? After a little we 
could afford to look at the sudden and boisterous invasion 
from a ludicrous point of view ; but even yet we cannot 
think of that uproarious scene without contrasting it 
with the oppressive darkness and solemnity in the heart 
of the great pyramid, with the solitude of the desert out- 
side, and the old-world-far-away look of that mysterious 
companion of the pyramids, the Sphinx. 

Having lunched amons; the blocks on the side of the 
great pyramid, very near the entrance, we came down 
and lingered about the Sphinx, and threw ourselves back 
into the far past, borne upon a current of thought that 
carried us beyond the days of Moses. How many have 
gazed upon these marvellous structures, and how many 



64 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



generations must lie below; for these giant buildings 
probably stood either at the entrance to mighty cities 
or in their immediate neighbourhood ! 

"Stop! — for thy tread is on an Empire's dust. 

We were speedily recalled from our reverie under the 
shadow of the Sphinx by the cry for baksheesh, which 
now became endless and most annoying. Our friend" 
with the stick had deemed us long before this quite 
incorrigible in this matter, and had gone off chagrined, 
leaving us to fight the battle. The Arabs, finding that 
they had now the field to themselves, followed us for 
about a mile, in the hope of getting a few more piastres. 
Our only hope lay in flight, so we ignobly turned our 
backs upon the pyramids and the Sphinx, and fled as 
fast as our donkeys could carry us, for the sake of peace. 

On our way back, and when passing through a small 
village, we were extremely sorry to find a "British 
Workman," very much the worse of liquor, striking a 
poor Arab most unmercifully with his fists. The Arab's 
face was a frightful spectacle; but notwithstanding all 
this brutal usage, not one of the inhabitants who were 
looking on interfered. Some of them muttered a few 
words, which were explained to us as simply meaning 
"Drunken Nazarene !" The ancient Egyptians had their 
sacred bulls; — how many of our own countrymen degrade 
themselves beneath the level of brutes ! 

We drove out to Heliopolis, supposed to be the site of 
On, mentioned in scripture in connection with the domes- 
tic life of Joseph (Gen. xli. 45), — " And Pharaoh gave him 
to wife Asenath, the daughter of Poti-pherah, priest of 
On." There is only one solitary obelisk standing on the 
plain where the city of the sun once stood, and the hiero- 



THE CITY OF THE SUN. 



65 



glyphics are as sharply cut as on the day they were 
finished. It may be reasonably supposed that a city 
consecrated to the worship of the sun, would be built 
according to the highest ideas of Egyptian splendour at 
the time. That lonely obelisk is the last landmark on 
the site of a great city, bearing testimony to the terrible 
completeness of the desolation that has swept over this 
spot, and but for this last vestige, the site itself might 
have been utterly lost. Among the mounds of this 
buried city, with what additional interest we read these 
words: "Against all the gods of Egypt I will execute 
judgment : I am the Lord." Not another vestige stands 
erect. Here and there a broken column or obelisk may 
be seen lying in the fields, like a stray boulder borne 
down by a resistless torrent. We walked for more than 
an hour over heaps of broken pottery, as if the whole 
city had been built of baked clay. The ruins are, doubt- 
less, under these dunes, on which not a green blade of 
any kind is to be seen. Fields of luxuriant verdure lie 
beyond; and the brief scriptural allusion to Joseph and 
his wife was in itself quite sufficient to throw the glow 
of warm hearts, the light of domestic affection, over this 
desolate waste. Plato is said to have studied here at a 
famous school, but the story of Joseph, and the bright 
picture of his home, were uppermost in our mind. 

On our way back, we visited the traditional sycamore, 
under the shadow of which the Virgin Mother is said to 
have sat when the Holy Family found shelter in this land. 
A hatchet was handed to us by an Arab, who kept 
reminding us of baksheesh, and we cut a small piece off, 
with very little faith in the tradition ; and yet, after all, 
why should it be so ? as well this spot as another. We 
did not come to doubt and to question, but to believe, 



66 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



and take things as they are. Why leave home"at all if 
everything is to be thrown into the crucible of unbelief ? 

During our stay in Cairo, we had much pleasant inter- 
course with the agents of the American mission, and were 
delighted with the tokens we saw of the good effected 
by their labours. Had that mission done nothing more 
than educate the little girl who became the Maharanee- 
Dhuleep-Singh, it would have accomplished a very impor- 
tant work. Many of our readers are doubtless aware of 
the romantic love story of this Prince and his young bride. 
There is nothing more wonderful in the "Thousand and 
One Nights." It would read like a second book of Esther 
— another proof that truth is not seldom stranger than 
fiction. This is not the place to enter fully into details, 
but a few may be given in connection with this oriental 
tale of romance. 

When the young Prince JDhuleep-Singb, who is the son 
of the famous Runjeet Singh, the late king of the Sikhs, 
was on his way to India, he happened to visit the mission 
schools at Cairo. He was struck with the appearance 
and manners of a girl of some fifteen years of age, who 
was then acting as pupil teacher in one of the rooms. 
Her mother was an Abyssinian, and when very young 
had been stolen and sold as a slave. This was her only 
child, and they both lived together in the same humble 
dwelling. The girl had been brought to the mission 
school, where she received a Christian education, and 
gave her young heart, it is believed, to Christ. The 
visits of the Prince were frequently repeated; his affec- 
tion increased ; and at last he revealed to the missionaries 
the honourable feelings and intentions which he cherished. 
They were all greatly taken by surprise, and none more 
so than the girl herself. Her desire was to live and die 



PRINCE DHULEEP-SINGH. 



67 



in connection with a school from which she had received 
such benefit. Dhuleep-Singh was obliged to sail for India, 
but as yet he had not obtained her consent to the mar- 
riage, and it was only after much persuasion on the part 
of her best friends that she saw it to be her duty to agree 
to the proposal. The ladies must excuse us for passing 
Over the details of this remarkable courtship. Suffice 
to say that, after the return of the Prince from India, he 
was married to his young bride by the Kev. Mr. Hogg, one 
of the missionaries, who was deeply interested in their 
mutual welfare. On the day of his marriage, he sent her 
with a donation of a thousand sovereigns to the school 
where she had been taught, and this gift has been 
renewed on every anniversary of their marriage day. 
They were received with much motherly affection by the 
Queen at Windsor, where their first-born child was bap- 
tised, and received the name of Victor Albert. The 
Maharanee now adorns a high station, and is acknow- 
ledged on all hands to be eminently worthy of the place 
she fills in that exalted Christian home with so much 
native grace and dignity. 

We should not omit to mention that we also found 
Miss Whately, the daughter of the late Archbishop, doing 
a good work amongst the children of Cairo, with great 
self-sacrifice, perseverance, and womanly tact. 

Our greatest difficulty, before starting for the desert, 
was in making choice of a dragoman. Ibrahim Gabriel, 
a Cairene and a Copt, was strongly recommended to us, 
and we selected him. He engaged an Arab sheikh of 
the name of Saleh, who had encamped with some of his 
tribe and their camels outside the walls. The sheikh 
came into the city, and we all went together to the 
British consulate, where a contract was drawn up and 



68 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



duly signed by all parties. This agreement was written 
in Arabic, and a translation in English was handed to us. 
The copy in Arabic was read over to the dragoman and 
the sheikh. The latter could neither read nor write. He 
took a signet ring from some part of his loose dress — a 
ring to which he evidently attached much importance — 
and handed it to the consul, who rubbed the seal over 
with prepared ink. This seal was affixed to the end of 
the contract, and in this way the sheikh signified his 
assent. He was to furnish a sufficient number of men 
and camels for the journey; the dragoman was to provide 
all other necessaries, such as tents, bedding, provisions, 
servants, and horses, when the latter were required. 

A young American lady and gentleman, husband and 
wife, joined our party at Cairo, and their pleasant com- 
pany did much to lighten the journey. This addition of 
two obliged us to make some little change in our con- 
tract, which was arranged at the consul's. We have 
never met with any one who could quote the English 
poets with such amazing facility, or who had such a 
retentive memory, as this American friend. A word or a 
line was quite sufficient to start him on a long and intri- 
cate passage, which he could repeat not only correctly, 
but with great rhetorical effect. He was an excellent 
companion, and did much to cheer our solitary way 
through the desert by his quotations from the poets. 

Our camels, to the number of some twenty, and as 
many men, were sent on several days before us, to await 
our arrival at Suez, as we could save a journey of three 
or four days in the desert by taking the railway. On 
the morning we started, some moslem festival was to 
be held on the following day at Tanta. It was scarcely 
possible to get near the railway station for the inex- 



BOUGH USAGE. 



69 



tricable confusion occasioned by an immense crowd of 
Moslems, who were proceeding thither. They literally 
trod one upon another. It was in vain we tried to force 
our way through this surging sea of turbaned heads. By 
the kindness of a friend, we managed to get to the plat- 
form by a private door. We were shocked by the scene 
we now witnessed. Two stout fellows, armed with sticks, 
stood at the little turn-gate leading from the railway 
office to the platform. They kept constantly belabour- 
ing the people, who eagerly pressed to get through, 
and fast and thick the blows fell on heads, hands, and 
shoulders. Neither age nor sex was spared. This was 
to prevent actual suffocation, so desperately eager were 
the people to reach the train. Several poor women, who 
fell in their efforts to get to the platform, were also 
struck by the fellows, who laid on with their sticks in 
every direction. These would not break bones, but they 
must have left livid marks, for the dress in every case 
was too light to afford any protection from the blows. 
We stood utterly amazed at the barbarity of the scene. 
It was humiliating to see how the crowd meekly took 
this beating without attempting the slightest resistance, 
and how lightly they treated the whole affair; for, on 
getting through, they laughed and shook themselves, and 
hurried into the carriages, which were scarcely so good as 
our cattle trucks. Many of them had beds, and large 
quantities of provisions, and they were all delighted they 
had got through, and had secured their places in the great 
rough boxes, in the bottom of which they squatted them- 
selves, for there were no seats. Striking with sticks is a 
very common thing in the East ; and this may serve to 
give additional point to the Apostle's injunction — which 
may seem strange to our Western ideas — when he says 
that a bishop must be " no striker." 



70 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



The dragoman's wife came to the station to see him off. 
She was accompanied by a very interesting-looking girl 
of some ten years of age, their only child. Ibrahim has 
property to a considerable amount; he lives in a good 
house in Cairo, and is in easy circumstances ; but on 
asking him if his girl had been at school, he replied, 
with a smile, that "school was not the custom here for 
girls — that she had never been at one, and could not 
read." On telling him that he might break through the 
custom and give his child the benefit of a good education, 
he shrugged his shoulders and said, "That be one very 
strange thing here — girls made to keep house." He 
told us that he did not intend to send her to school, or 
teach her to read, for no woman, he emphatically de- 
clared, had any need of such a thing. It was enough 
if she was taught to use her needle, and his intention 
was to make her a tailor. He professes to be a Coptic 
Christian, but even amongst his community such are 
the prevailing ideas in reference to the education of 
women. In this respect the Copt has yielded to the 
views of the Mohammedan. 

After a long delay, we got off at last for Suez, through 
the desert. We were not long on our way when, to our 
great surprise, we seemed to be drawing near to the sea. 
This was our first experience of the mirage. During our 
journey we had several beautiful specimens. We halted 
at some very solitary stations, formerly used, we presume, 
by the Transit Company, where the passengers got out 
for a little; and it was amusing to hear the fizz and the 
pop of the ginger beer bottles, and the predominance of 
the English tongue, in this wide waste. With the excep- 
tion of our party, all the passengers were proceeding to 
various parts of India. 



CHAPTER IV. 



MAJOR MACDONALD — ICE IN THE DESERT — MEDICAL DEGREE OF HAKEEM 
PASHA — FIRST NIGHT IN THE DESERT — OUR DINING TABLE — ARAB 
SHEIKH — MUSTAPHA THE COOK — OUR ATTENDANTS MOHAMMED AND 
ACHMED — AMEERIE — HOTSPUR — THE VENTRILOQUIST — OUR CAMELS — 
FUNERAL AT SUEZ — FIRST CAMEL RIDE — DRESS OF THE BEDOUINS — 
SKETCH OF OUR ENCAMPMENT. 

fN" reaching Suez, we found our encampment 
ffl £8n \) very near the Red Sea, with Jebel Atakah, or 
/kxSJ^ ^ e fountain of Deliverance, right in front. 
^^^1 We had scarcely, entered our tent, which 
was now to be our home for some time, when Major 
Macdonald, whose tent was pitched in the immediate 
neighbourhood, called upon us, accompanied by his Arab 
servant, who, greatly to our surprise and delight, brought 
large pieces of ice as our first present in the desert. 
Nothing could have been more welcome on that hot 
day. It was artificial ice, made at the Peninsular and 
Oriental Company's establishment at Suez for the use of 
their ships, and also, we were informed, for our military 
stations in India, where our soldiers regard it as a great 
boon. The Major — who, in appearance, reminded us 
somewhat of our old Professor, Christopher North — has 
lived for more than twenty years in Wady Megarah, in a 
most lonely Robinson-Crusoe wigwam sort of dwelling, 
built, or rather leaning against the face of a rock. He 
has not a "single English attendant, nor one with whom 



72 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



he can converse in his native tongue. There is, at least, 
a dash of the romantic in his life; bnt it would proba- 
bly kill nine out of every ten who tried it. Notwith- 
standing his long period of self-imposed isolation from 
society, seldom have we met with a man who had more 
brilliant conversational powers. Not one of our party 
will ever forget the night we spent together at Suez. 
For the long period of twenty years, the Major has been 
conducting mining operations with a few Arabs, in search 
of turquoise. A bad fever, from which he was just 
recovering, had obliged him to leave his solitary retreat 
and seek medical advice at Suez. We found his ice very 
agreeable, and his conversation still more so ; the former 
we could not carry with us — we will ever retain a plea- 
sant impression of the latter. He was of opinion that 
our tents were pitched not far from the spot where the 
hosts of Israel crossed the Red Sea. 

We were much struck by the bold, bluff, precipitous 
mountain range, called Jebel Atakah. As the shadows 
of evening fell, and the moon rose with unclouded splen- 
dour, it did not require any effort of imagination to bring 
up the whole scene recorded in the book of Exodus : the 
shining of the naming fire by night, the consternation of 
the defenceless hosts of Israel, as prostrate in heart and 
utterly bewildered, they found themselves hemmed in by 
the sea, entangled in the land, and pursued by the Egyp- 
tians. 

One of our Arabs came up to the Major with a look of 
pain and exhaustion ; he was very unwell. They had a 
short talk together, after which the Major asked us if we 
had brought any medicine from home. Happily, before 
leaving, we had received from an esteemed medical friend 
a small medicine chest, containing a quantity of well- 



OUR PRACTICE OF MEDICINE. 



73 



selected drugs. We brought our box, and the Major took 
out a couple of pills which he thought would suit the 
poor fellow best, and requested us to administer the 
dose. We did so with as professional an air as we 
could assume, never dreaming what would be the result. 
This was enough in the estimation of the Arabs : we 
must be a distinguished '-'medicine man," and then and 
there we received our medical degree, and were ever after- 
wards honoured throughout the whole of the desert with 
the title of " Hakeem Pasha." It was in vain we told 
the dragoman to inform the sheikh and the Arabs that we 
were no " Hakeem." Either he did not tell them, or they 
did not believe him. It was quite enough for them that 
we had a medicine chest and had administered drugs 
in the presence of the Major, who has acquired great 
influence over them and secured their confidence and 
esteem. Every sick case in the encampment was thrown 
upon our hands; not only so, but our fame spread to 
all the Arabs we chanced to meet. We tried to bear our 
honours meekly, and acting upon the Major's advice, 
never in any case refused to prescribe, taking care, of 
course, that if the drug did no o-ood it would do no harm ; 
and strange to say, all our patients got better. If we 
had no payments, we had abundance of salaams and 
many a " Kartir heirek, keteer, keteer," — " Thank you, 
thank you, very much." 

We were obliged to put the best face on the profession 
and the honours which were thus thrust upon us, and we 
can honestly say that, to the best of our ability, we did 
credit to both. We had patent medicines, and that is not 
what every quack can say. The pill that was in greatest 
demand was one which, from its active properties, was 
emphatically characterised by the Arabs as "the gazelle!" 



74 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 

This pill wrought wonders in the desert, so our Arabs 
thought. We had occasionally recourse to blue-pill and 
colocynth ; to quinine very frequently, as it is one of the 
best medicines that can be administered in cases of fever, 
a disease to which travellers are very much exposed in 
passing through the desert ; but £< the gazelle " was our 
sheet anchor in almost every case, and it never failed 
with the Arabs to put all to rights. Many a hearty 
laugh we now take at the whole thing, for we were 
obliged to look very wise and knowing to our patients, 
and never in any case refusing to give them something 
from our chest. It would never have done, according to 
Arab notions, for a Hakeem to refuse to prescribe some- 
thing, and many besides the Bedouins have the same 
idea of the healing art. Only once did we shake our 
head again and again, in token that we could do nothing, 
It was pitiful to see the look of disappointment of a 
young woman at Nakhul, when she led her father from our 
tent in a state of almost total blindness. They returned 
in a little, but we were again obliged to dismiss the case 
without attempting to prescribe. The disappointment 
of both was extreme. The dragoman, when he saw how 
matters stood, said somewhat vehemently in English, 
"Give some pill ; don't shake head, and they'll hope all 
time !" 

We saw how easy it is to drift into quackery, and how 
its professors can obtain for a time an influence and a posi- 
tion truly astonishing. It was matter of much regret to 
us that we had not made the noble art of healing a special 
object of study. Our brief experience as a Hakeem has 
deeply convinced us of the vast importance of medical 
missions in the propagation of the Christian faith in the 
" dark places of the earth." The medical missionary has 



MISHAP AT BREAKFAST. 75 

access to parties and spheres of influence which an ordi- 
nary missionary cannot hope to reach. In our own case, 
had we known Arabic, and the practice of medicine, what 
fine opportunities in the way of teaching, as well as in 
healing, would have been presented to us, even among 
the wandering tribes of the Sinaitic peninsula.] 

Notwithstanding all the novelty of our first night in 
the desert: the incessant chattering of our Arabs for hours 
as they sat round the camp fires, and the occasional 
low grumblings of our camels, we managed to get a 
few broken snatches of sleep, and next morning rose, 
performed our ablutions, and took our breakfast in the 
open air, as we did ever afterwards during the whole 
of our tent life. Our table was so constructed that it 
could be easily taken down and packed; the supports 
could be folded up like a large camp stool. Over these, 
when stretched out, two boards were placed, and then 
the table cloth, which was kept as clean as daily packing, 
the absence of a bleaching green, and but a scant supply 
of water would permit. The legs of the table were kept 
together by a stout cord, which on one occasion gave 
way, when all the breakfast was laid out and we were 
just stretching out our hands to begin There was a 
sudden collapse, and the whole materials went crash into 
the sand. There was first wonder depicted on every face 
as to the cause of the catastrophe, and then loud laughter, 
as each began to pick up the debris of his breakfast. Be- 
yond the spilling of our tea, little harm was done, for the 
sand was very dry, and could be easily shaken off. 

We may as well at this point introduce to our readers 
a few of the more prominent members of our encamp- 
ment. The dragoman and the sheikh have already made 
their salaam, but we have still a few words more about 



76 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



the latter. We were rather taken aback with his appear- 
ance the first time we met him in the Ezbekyeh. He 
rose from the sand, where his camels lay around him, 
and kindly offered us a small cup of black coffee. But 
although he did this with the native grace of a gentle- 
man, he really looked, to our unpractised eye. a complete 
ragamuffin, in his shabby turban and his loose under- 
dress, which seemed to be a shirt and a pair of short 
drawers in one piece, ending a little below the knee, and 
fastened round the waist with a belt. In addition to this, 
there is usually worn a coarse cloak of camel's hair, with 
stripes of white and brown, but as the day was hot, he 
had dispensed with this covering. Sundry articles were 
stuck round his belt, such as a tobacco-pipe, the stem of 
which was like a short black staff ; two or three daggers 
in sheaths, and a sword about double the length of these. 
His breast, legs, and arms were almost all bare. His san- 
dals, if they really deserved this name, were very much 
the worse for wear, and seemed to be nothing more than 
a piece of a dried fish skin fastened by a thong, and 
which barely covered the sole of his foot. There was 
nothing venerable about him, either in age or appearance. 
He was a little beyond the prime of life, and rather short 
and thick-set for a Bedouin. His face, which had never 
known a razor, had all the hirsute appendages in full. 
His look was rather dull and forbidding in the Consul's 
office, but he was there completely out of his element. 
He belonged to the Towara tribe, and he and the men 
who were with him, seemed to be quite a different race 
of beings when they got into the desert. In the city 
they were dull and lifeless ; among their own sands they 
walked erect, with elastic steps, and made a sudden tran- 
sition from the grave to the gay. On better acquaintance 



MUSTAPHA THE COOK. 



77 



we found that our sheikh had a most friendly eye, and 
this was really the expressive index of the man's nature. 
He was most kind and obliging, and we had often reason 
to admire his judicious tact as a peacemaker, and the 
way he managed his men when any difficulty arose. By 
and by we got quite a liking for him, and can never but 
think kindly of him. All blessings on thy head, thou 
genuine son of the desert, if thy feet are still treading 
thy native sands ! 

We had an excellent cook, an elderly man, a Moham- 
medan, from Cairo, and so much an Oriental all over, 
that you could not look at his face without being vividly 
reminded of the cooks of Bagdad, as described in the 
" Arabian Nights." We have still a most savoury recol- 
lection of his culinary preparations, especially his soups, 
which were truly delicious at the close of a fatiguing day's 
march. In this department, Soyer himself could not have 
done better. Like a true son of the Koran, he had several 
wives, and spoke of them all with much affection. He 
had one very great defect, however: he could not make 
tea, neither would he learn to do it. He seemed to treat 
the fragrant leaf with perfect contempt, as utterly be- 
neath his notice, so that we were unanimously installed 
by our party as tea-maker= This brought us at times 
into rather unpleasant rivalry with Mustapha the cook. 
He could not be brought to believe that boiling water 
was necessary to make good tea, and nothing would ruffle 
the temper of the kindly old man so much as the morning 
shout from the tent door, which was the more frequently 
repeated the more he seemed to feel it, "Boil water, 
cook !" The pronunciation of each word was very much 
prolonged, to the great annoyance of Mustapha, and the 
amusement of the Arabs, who got to understand them, 



78 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



and who enjoyed the irritation which they produced — 
" Bo — il wa — ter, co — o — k !" He felt every shout to be 
a challenging of his culinary skill, and each one was met 
by some emphatic grunts on his part, which were greatly 
amusing to the whole encampment. But he was a kindly, 
dear old man, and, with the exception of "Boil water," 
very obliging ; even this irritation was but a momentary 
ruffle on the surface of his Mohammedan gravity and 
placid thoughts. We never saw the sun go down on his 
wrath, and a bit of tobacco put all to rights. 

We had two attendants, Mohammed and Achmed, and 
often would these rogues come and coax us to repeat the 
obnoxious shout, especially if the day was rather dull 
and oppressive. Mohammed was a young man of about 
nineteen, tall, strong, and powerfully built, a native of 
Thebes. He was extremely simple and confiding, natur- 
ally indolent, but when roused, was like a lion both for 
strength and fierceness. Poor fellow, he .was greatly 
troubled with ophthalmia, but he was cheerful and very 
frequently singing. He was a great big boy, fond of fun 
and frolic. Achmed was much older and married, and 
his various moods of humour, shrewd observation, sulki- 
ness, stolid silence, obsequious devotion, and wheedling 
flattery, were quite a study. 

Amongst the Bedouins, the only one of mark besides 
the sheikh was Ameerie, one of the camel drivers. He 
was very fond and proud of his camel, which, out of the 
whole twenty-one, was by far the best, and was, therefore, 
unanimously set aside for the use of the lady. There was 
a superior bearing both about the camel and its master 
that struck you at once. He was darker than the rest, 
lithe and nimble as a gazelle, with an eye like an eagle 
when anything excited him, and when he fired a shot 



THE VENTRILOQUIST. 



79 



it was always deadly. Everything lie did had a native 
grace about it that won all our hearts. He was often 
asked if he would not come to England, but his un- 
failing reply was that he had a wife and children in 
the desert, " My home is here." He was tasteful about 
his dress. In this respect he might be considered rather 
buckish, a Bedouin swell. In his whole bearing there 
was a marked contrast between him and the rest of his 
companions. 

A firebrand of a fellow, who was always flaring up at 
something, was the "Hotspur" of the tribe. He and 
his camel were continually growling ; and the sheikh had 
often to interfere between him and the dragoman, or 
some others, when angry words threatened to come to 
blows. Another was a first-rate ventriloquist, who greatly 
startled us on our first day's march by imitating the roar 
of a lion, and then the plaintive cry of a hyena, and we 
had more than once to look suspiciously around before 
we discovered the cause of alarm. To relieve the mono- 
tony of the way, and as if seized by some sudden impulse, 
he would imitate the ass, the jackal, the dog, the goat, 
the turkey-cock, the crying of a child, and the attempts 
of a mother to hush it to sleep. All the Arabs were 
alike in this, that they were tanned with the heat of the 
sun. They had no superfluous flesh about them; and 
their appearance betokened a life of frequent hardship 
and privation. Their dress was very light, like that of 
the sheikh already described, but although the general 
outline was much the same, scarcely two dresses were 
alike. One had a covering of rich purple silk, which had 
seen better days somewhere else than in the desert 
another had a sheep's skin thrown over his back, the 
inside turned out, and this served as a baking-board at 



80 



THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



night on which to knead their cakes. All had some sort 
of warlike weapon stuck in their belts — an old sword or 
a dagger, invariably a tobacco-pipe, and several had long 
matchlocks, of a very ancient description, slung across 
their shoulders. Two or three of them were very savage 
in appearance, others had a soft and even feminine look. 

Having said so much about our men, we now give 
our impressions of the camel. "We did not find camel 
riding, on the whole, unpleasant, after the first two days 
or so. Of course the swinging, see-saw motion is very 
peculiar, and to many very fatiguing. The first attempt 
at mounting is generally very ludicrous ; for, as the camel 
has an extra joint, it can only get to its feet by a series 
of rather awkward movements; and the inexperienced 
rider, when it rises from the ground, is in great danger of 
being thrown either over its head or its tail. First of all, 
he is quite at a loss how to get on, whether he should 
walk over the neck, climb the sides, or ascend from the 
back, and his perplexity is certainly not diminished by 
the ominously threatening looks and grunts of his new 
companion. Of all animals employed in the service of 
man, the camel is the most ill-natured, peevish, com- 
plaining, and unsocial. Approach it for the purpose of 
giving it a kindly pat, before mounting, or laying 
anything on it, however light, and it will turn at once 
its frightful mouth upon you wide open (and such a 
mouth !) and show its green and slimy teeth, and make 
the most hideous noises, in a long-continued series of 
grunts and growls, as if it were then and there to be 
killed outright. Its face then presents the most intense 
look of ill-nature, mingled with the most imploring look 
for pity. This protest, as above indicated, continues dur- 
ing the whole process of mounting or loading, and when 



THE CHAKACTER OF THE CAMEL. 



81 



there are some twenty or thirty camels in one encamp- 
ment, it is a combination of the most discordant sounds. 
Add to all this, the shouting, yelling, screaming, and 
angry quarrels of the Arabs, every morning when they 
are packing the camels, and it is hard to say which is the 
more unpleasant of the two. This much must be said, 
however, for the camel, that its noisy demonstrations 
generally cease as soon as it is loaded and gets to its 
feet. It will then patiently plod on for many hours 
together, under the burning heat of the sun ; but it 
does not seem to have the slightest social instincts on the 
long and weary march. It will not go side by side, 
or " sowa, sowa " with another for any length of time. It 
will follow in rank and file fashion, but seldom along- 
side of any companion, unless actually compelled to do 
so by the driver. In point of intelligence, it stands to 
the horse about the same distance as the cow. It is thus 
difficult to pursue a conversation for any time in camel 
riding. You and your travelling companion are deep 
in some interesting subject, when all at once your 
camel sees at some distance a favourite shrub called the 
ghurkhud, and it is off at a tangent in spite of all your 
efforts ; and when you look round, you find the camel of 
your friend pursuing the same tactics on the other side, 
and the wide space now left between puts a stop to your 
pleasant talk. When the end of the day's journey is 
reached, there is another series of prolonged grunts and 
growls when the camels are brought to their knees that 
they may be unpacked, or that you may dismount, so 
that the day begins and ends with the most discordant 
sounds. " Oh, do not touch me ; I'll bite — I will !" seems 
to be the interpretation of its desperate excitement, as if 
it were really sore all over, and could not bear to be 



82 



THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



touched. It has no affection, no gratitude for its master. 
It is all one who owns it. When it loses the way, it 
never attempts to find it, but wanders on ; and it will fall 
into the hands of a new master without a single care or 
reflection about its former owner. At the end of the 
day's journey, and when there is any pasture to be had, 
its fore-legs are tied together by a rope, so that it cannot 
go any distance from the' encampment, for the Arabs 
know well that if it did, it would probably never come 
back, or be very difficult to find. The whole life of the 
poor camel, as we saw it, especially at the commencement 
of a journey, seemed to be a constant protest (and there 
may be too good reason for this) against what it regarded 
as cruel wrong and oppression on the part of man. 

With all these drawbacks, however, it is a most useful 
animal, and well worthy of the name it has received, the 
" ship of the desert for no other beast of burden could 
be so serviceable to man in the same place. It can travel 
for a long time without food or drink, and this is a 
wonderful instance of adaptation, without which the 
desert would really be impassable. " It is the last straw 
that breaks the camel's back," is a proverb, which shows 
how much and how long it will endure, and what heavy 
burdens are laid upon it, one thing after another, till the 
last and the lightest literally breaks its back. It knows 
this, and also the difficulty it has in rising, and the 
growling of the poor creature during its process of 
loading may after all be its urgent protest against a 
cruel wrong continued for ages, an outcry which man has 
heard unheeded for thousands of years. If there is not a 
great deal of actual patience about the camel, there must 
be an immense amount of stolid endurance, for it plods 
on till it becomes utterly worn out by age or work ; and 



WAILING FOR THE DEAD. 



83 



when it does lie down in sheer exhaustion, it is said that 
it never rises again — it lies down to die. It was a 
very painfully suggestive sight to witness on our way 
through the desert the numerous skeletons of camels that 
had fallen down under their burdens and found relief 
only in death. Every vestige of skin or flesh was gone, 
and the great hulk of bones lay whitening in the sun 
long after the vultures had done their work. We never 
looked upon the sight without being reminded of the 
touching words of Longfellow, pointing in another and 
higher direction, — 

"He, the young and strong, who cherished 
Noble longings for the strife, 
By the roadside fell and perished, 
Weary with the march of life!" 

On the morning after our arrival at Suez, we strolled 
down towards the sea-shore, and came upon a Moham- 
medan graveyard. It was Friday (the Mohammedan 
Sunday), and many women and children were sitting 
among the white- washed tombs and recently-made graves, 
uttering piteous lamentations. The grief, in some cases, 
seemed to be assumed for the time, and had a whim- 
pering, artificial cast about it; but many of them were 
really in distress, and their wailing reminded us of the 
great cry there was in Egypt at the smiting of the first- 
born. We afterwards frequently met with this practice 
of wailing for the dead. On the same morning we saw 
the burial of a young person. The body was wrapt in a 
white winding-sheet, and carried on an open stretcher, or 
bier, by two men. It was lifted off and laid in the grave 
along; with the dead clothes. There was no coffin, but a 
few loose boards were driven in around the corpse and 
covered up with sand. No one was present besides the 



84 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



two men who did their painful work in complete silence. 
We withdrew, lest we might be considered intruding on 
a scene of sorrow. 

After a great deal of very emphatic grumbling on the 
part of the camels, and screaming and quarrelling amongst 
our men, they were at last ready to start, and we sent 
them round the head of the gulf shortly after breakfast. 
Instead of following them, we remained to stroll about 
Suez — a wretchedly dull place — and about two o'clock 
in the afternoon, we took a boat and sailed right across 
to the Quarantine, the transition from Africa to Asia 
having been made in a few minutes. Major Macdonald 
kindly accompanied us to the other side, to see us fairly 
started. We took lunch in one of the deserted apart- 
ments of the Quarantine, and our camels having arrived, 
we proceeded to mount them. 

Acting on the Major's advice, we laid hold of the two 
projecting pieces of wood, or horns of the saddle; but 
notwithstanding all our precautions, the first movement 
nearly sent us over the head, and the next gave us an 
awkward hitch towards the tail. The beast rose to its 
feet, and we were raised far above the hot sands of the 
desert. After we were fairly mounted, the Major shook 
hands and wished us a good journey. On looking back 
we saw him waving his English hat, which was the last 
of the kind we saw for a long time. He returned to Suez 
with the intention of following us to his lonely retreat in 
Wady Megarah in a week or so after we parted. 

Ere we start on our first march into the desert, let us 
pause for a few moments to photograph the whole estab- 
lishment. What an admirable group for a painting ! A 
score of camels and as many men make a long procession, 
for, as already observed, the camels prefer to move forward 



BEDOUIN DRESS. 



85 



in Indian-file fashion, and there is a space between each 
longer or shorter according to their humour. Ibrahim is 
at the head of our cavalcade, mounted on a camel with a 
large quantity of baggage suspended on each side. He has 
dressed himself in his best for the first day's start, in a 
loose, flowing olive-green robe, and his Jcejieh, or head- 
dress, with its red and yellow stripes glittering brightly 
in the sun, which we begin to feel already intensely hot. 
All bur Arabs are now much more lively than when we 
first made their acquaintance on the sands of the Ezbek- 
yeh before Shepherd's Hotel. They now seem like a 
different race of beings, for the Bedouins are always out 
of their element in a town, and before you can see them 
to advantage you must be with them on their own native 
sands. Their whole bearing is now quite different — their 
eye kindles, their step is fight, and their movements are 
all unrestrained in their desert air. They are neither a 
merry nor a humorous race at the best ; their life is too 
hard and the heat too great for this. In the town they 
are like fish out of water ; when they get back to the 
desert they feel restored to their native element, and for 
a time are like a lot of boys let loose from school. No 
two of them are dressed alike, save in this particular, 
that they are entirely destitute of covering from the foot 
to the knee. The desert is not the place for a Highland 
kilt, for the heat leaves the leg with but a very diminutive 
calf. It is not a dress that would suit the Bedouin, not 
because it wants lightness, but because he is so thin and 
spare he would be lost in it. The hose would not stick 
on his shrunk shanks. His dress is like his own diet, 
very spare ; like his own desert home, free and wide, and 
places no restraint whatever upon its wearer. At first 
we thought it an unmanly garb, but we got accustomed 



86 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



to it. The head gear is quite a study, and the swarthy 
faces under it no less so. 

Some may wonder what we did with fully a score 
of camels. They were all required. Five were con- 
stantly needed by ourselves for riding. All our own per- 
sonal baggage, and all the baggage of the encampment, 
were distributed among the rest. We had two large 
boxes or canteens, containing all our cooking utensils, 
such as knives, forks, spoons, metal plates, basins, 
and cups, with all the other necessaries for a well- 
stocked table. Our candlesticks and lanterns were also 
contained in the same boxes ; if the former hailed from 
Birmingham they certainly did it no credit. Our lanterns 
were thoroughly Eastern, made of linen, and saturated in 
some substance like wax, which increased the trans- 
parency. This cloth is attached to a circular tin frame 
at each end, and when in use is drawn out to a foot or so 
in length; but when packed, the whole is folded in a 
small compass in the largest ring. These canteens were 
quite a sufficient load for a camel, and one box served to 
balance the other on each side. Two or three camels 
were employed in carrying barrels of Nile water and bags 
of charcoal. The tent-poles, camp-stools, iron-bedsteads 
and bedding, required as many more. In addition to all 
this, we had the provisions necessary for five or six 
weeks in the desert. The dragoman told us he started 
with six hundred oranges and one hundred lemons ; if so, 
it is still a mystery what became of them. We had a 
large number of flour loaves, but they were very stale 
long before we were half through the desert, and we were 
very glad to get a little fresh bread at the convent of 
Mount Sinai. Our heaviest part of the baggage was the 
barrels of Nile water. From these our zemzemias, or 



THE LAST TURKEY. 



87 



leather-bottles, were supplied, and the water was so 
churned, wrought, and shaken i^i the barrel and the 
bottle by the swinging motion of the camel and all but 
boiled by the heat, that it was a strange compound long 
before we were done with it. A most interesting part of 
our baggage consisted of wicker coops, nearly as large 
as some of the Egyptian mud huts. These were for 
carrying our poultry. The one was sadly overcrowded 
with live chickens and pigeons, but as some half-dozen 
of them were killed every day, the accommodation gradu- 
ally increased as we went along. The other coop was 
occupied by some eight or nine turkeys — sonsy-looking 
fellows — which were put into their prison-house in fine 
feather when they left Cairo. Ibrahim, of his own 
accord, undertook to provide a turkey for our Sunday 
dinner all the time we were in the desert, and they must 
have been brought up at Goshen, judging from the fine 
condition in which they made their first appearance. 

Little did they know the hardships that were before 
them in the wilderness. All our poultry suffered much 
from want of water and from exposure to the heat on the 
march, and the motion of the camel seemed to make them 
all sick. When we reached the encampment at night, 
they were generally let out of their prison to stretch 
their legs, feed, and drink, but it was evident from their 
appearance that they did not agree with desert life. It 
is anticipating somewhat our narrative, but this seems 
to be the proper time to say, now that we are on the 
subject of our poultry, that we did pity the last turkey 
that was left of all his companions when we came to the 
borders of the desert. He was rather a bit of a fop — a 
Turkish swell — when we started, and took a special pride 
in his scarlet ornaments ; but all the lustre was out of his 



88 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



eye, and there was not even a tinge of redness in the 
withered and tawdry appendages about his neck. One 
of our party observed that he was awfu' poohit and oorie- 
looking. His feathers were nearly all gone, and, for a 
turkey, he was evidently sick at heart, so that we really 
questioned, in the event of his being killed, whether it 
would have been rio-ht to brino- him on the table. It was 
too bad to make him the subject of our jokes, as we did 
at times. His very sickly and woe-begone appearance — 
the last of his race in the desert — made him look the 
very symbol of the sick man, his far-famed namesake, 
Turkey, the Sultan, or the Turkish empire. Our poultry 
required another camel, and these two coops, with some 
other et ceteras, went swinoino- through the desert, one 
coop suspended on each side of our heaviest beast of 
burden. There were other necessaries for our camp-life, 
which were all distributed among the other camels, so 
that they had all enough to do. 

And now we are on the move for Ayun Mousa. What 
a strange procession ! What a sensation it would have 
produced could it have been suddenly transferred to one 
of the principal streets of any of our large cities ! No 
procession of a wild beast show, or of an equestrian 
company, ever entered any town with one tithe of the 
grotesque appearance, or anything like the ludicrous 
grouping, which our desert procession had, as we slowly 
glided on into the first wady on our way to the " Wells 
of Moses." A long line of more than a score of camels 
was something in itself, not to mention the riders in 
their desert costume, and the Arabs in their picturesque 
light garb, with their strange -looking head -gear and 
sandalled feet. And then what a motley grouping of 
baggage, perched on the backs of camels, or dangling hj 



A STRANGE PROCESSION. 



89 



their sides, as they go see-sawing along ! Tents and 
tent-poles, panniers and portmanteaus, bags and boxes, 
water-barrels and hen-coops, charcoal and live turkeys; 
add to all this the swarthy and tanned visages of the 
camel-drivers, and the contrast which the European dress 
presents to theirs, shown by the few travellers who have 
brought all these elements of Eastern life together, and 
you have a procession which, had Dominie Sampson seen, 
he would have given vent to his famous ejaculation, 
xi Prodigious ! most prodigious !" 



CHAPTER V. 



WONDERFUL TINTS — WELLS OE MOSES— MORE ICE IN THE DESERT — DELI- 
VERANCE OP ISRAEL AT THE RED SEA — MARAH — ELIM — WADY TJSEIT — 
WADY TAYIBEH — ENCAMPMENT BY THE RED SEA — WORKSHOP OP THE 
CYCLOPS — DESERT SCENERY — WADY MEGARAH — MAJOR MACDONALD'S 
HOME IN THE DESERT — THE WRITTEN VALLEY — WADY FEIRAN — THE 
BEDOUIN PARADISE— MOUNT SERBAL — THE UNFORTUNATE KID — THE 
SHEIKH'S PRESENT— ARRIVAL AT SINAI. 




E enjoyed the novelty of our first ride in the 
desert very much. The see-saw motion of the 
camel was a new sensation. Our long pro- 
cession, as it moved forward, had a dash of 



Eastern romance about it. And then the growing soli- 
tude of the wide waste, as we advanced from one wady 
into another; but above all, the glorious sunset of that 
first night, and the wondrous tints which it brought out 
on Er Rahah, the Mountain of Rest. There is something 
very appropriate in this name. On the opposite shore is 
the Mountain of Deliverance ; yonder is the Mountain of 
Rest, gleaming in the radiance of departing day, like a 
flaming wall, to our left. Had we seen anything in a 
painting at all approaching the wondrous colouring 
thrown upon the face of these rocks, we would have 
said at once it was unnatural, and grossly exaggerated; 
but that scene has taught us never to judge hastily of 
any picture. 

The sun had set, and the shadows of the brief twilight 



WELLS OF MOSES. 



91 



were gathering around us, when we reached the "Wells 
of Moses.' 5 We were agreeably surprised to hear the 
merry voices of children, and still more so when we 
found some patches of garden ground won from the 
burning sands, and enclosed with fences of strong reeds. 
A white villa, surrounded by a garden, with here and 
there a few wild palms and bushes, some fruit trees, 
flowers, and vegetables, all treated as pets, and tended 
with great care, form a bright green spot, an oasis, on the 
borders of this "great and terrible wilderness," a circlet 
of verdure which still marks the spot where probably the 
Israelites had their first halting place after crossing the 
Eed Sea. From one old clump of palms, six rugged and 
stunted trunks extend their feathery branches over one 
of the Wells. This object is generally placed in the fore- 
ground in any engraving of this deeply interesting spot. 
The children whose voices we heard belonged to an Arab 
family residing here for the purpose of keeping the gar- 
dens in order. The white villa, which in the distance we 
thought at first a tent, belonged to a gentleman in Suez 
who is fond of making* agricultural experiments on the 
desert. The patches that he has brought under cultiva- 
tion around this spot, which, from its historical associa- 
tions, is a household word throughout Christendom, 
show what irrigation and culture may yet do on a much 
larger scale for the waste places of the earth. He comes 
over occasionally and spends a few days at his solitary 
"country house," which certainly meets the wishes of the 
poet so far as loneliness, but not so far as shade, is con- 
cerned — 

" Oh for a lodge in some vast wilderness, 
Some boundless contiguity of shade!" 

It was evident that another party, or parties, had 



92 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



arrived before us, judging from the Arabs and camels 
that were resting round the camp fires; including our 
own, there could not be fewer than about fifty camels 
about the Wells. We pitched our tents near one of 
the encampments, and had scarcely commenced dinner 
when we received a very polite card, intimating that 

Captain S and party would be delighted to see us 

at the neighbouring villa when we had dined. We were 
still near friends, and lingering within the bounds of 
civilisation. Of course we accepted the invitation, and 

were greatly pleased to find that Captain S was one 

of our own countrymen, in the service of the Peninsular 
and Oriental Company, and intended to join his ship for 
the Mauritius in a day or two. He was accompanied by 
a friend, with his wife and family, from Suez, and we 
soon discovered that this friend was a native of Glasgow, 
and also engaged in the same service. We had a good 
Scotch " crack " for an hour or two, and the clannish feel- 
ing of our countrymen was very manifest. Much to our 
surprise, ice was again produced, and from the same 
quarter as on the previous occasion. It was our last 
taste of icy coolness in the desert ; the very recollection 
of it afterwards only tended to increase our thirst, and to 
beget a desire which could not be gratified. How much 
we missed it in the marches that followed through the 
burning sands ! 

It happened to be full moon when we were at the 
Wells of Moses, and we do not recollect of ever having 
seen one of such unclouded splendour. None of our 
party will ever forget the pleasant stroll we had that 
glorious night along the shore. The silence was oppres- 
sive. Several white tombs were gleaming here and there 
like sheeted ghosts in the pale moonlight, and this added to 



WELLS OF MOSES, 



93 



the witchery of that witching hour. Jebel Atakah looked 
dark in this wondrous brightness, for the great mass of 
the mountain was in shadow. It did not require any 
effort of imagination to people that sandy waste with the 
emancipated hosts of Israel, and the shout of victory which 
rose from this very shore seemed to ring in our ears — 

" Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea! 
Jehovah has triumphed, His people are free;" — 

or, in the language of Scripture, " Sing ye to the Lord, for 
He hath triumphed gloriously; the horse and his rider 
hath He thrown into the sea!" We felt it to be one of 
earth's most sacred places; the scene of a stupendous 
display of Divine power, needed by a nation of slaves 
at the commencement of their wonderful march into the 
wilderness. What must have been their feelings when 
the morning broke upon these shores, with the sea flow- 
ing on as before, but above their enemies, "whom they 
would see no more for ever!" — and they stood a chosen 
people to begin the history of the world, free, delivered, 
and led out by the mighty hand of God into this vast 
solitude. 

Next morning we drew water out of one of the wells 
by means of a shadoof, and sat down at a couple of small 
circular stones, at which two women were engaged in 
grinding corn. We got a few handfuls of grain, and soon 
reduced it to meal, greatly to the amusement of the 
women, who kept at some distance, the paterfamilias all 
the while reminding us of baksheesh, and the mothers 
taking good care to plead for their little ones. Before 
leaving Glasgow, we paid a visit to Mr. Anderson's Poly- 
technic, and provided ourselves with a large quantity of 
ornaments and knick-knacks, such as brooches, rings, 



94 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



mounted pins, knives, scissors, small flutes, pop-guns, etc. 
Many an itinerant merchant has driven a large trade 
at a country fair, to the astonishment of the rustics, with 
a much smaller stock than we had. It was at the Wells 
of Moses we first produced some of our showy trinkets. 
The women did not know the use of the brooches or pins, 
but the rings were highly valued. These daughters of 
Eve were, in one respect, so ' like the daughters of the 
horse-leech, as described by Solomon, that our Polytech- 
nic stores, ample though they were, would soon have been 
exhausted, even at our first halting place. We learned to 
shew but few of our tempting wares at a time, and to 
reserve them for special occasions. 

It was with no ordinary feelings that we read in our 
tents, before leaving the Wells of Moses, the fourteenth 
and fifteenth chapters of Exodus, so intimately associated 
with this sacred spot, and committed ourselves and the 
dear ones at home to the guidance of the same great 
God who went forward before His people in the pillar of 
cloud by day, and the shining of a flaming fire by night. 
One of our party recited with much emotion the appro- 
priate words of the hymn — 

' £ When Israel, of the Lord beloved, 

Out from the land of bondage came, 
Their fathers' God before them moved, 
An awful Guide, in cloud and flame. 

By day, along the astonished lands 

The cloudy pillar glided slow; 
By night, Arabia's crimson'd sands 

Returned the fiery column's glow." 

Bidding our friends, who had so kindly entertained us 
the previous night, good-bye, we now left off all inter- 
course with the European and African side of things for 



WELLS OF 3IOSES. 



95 



a long time. "We would fain have taken some ice with us 
for our day's march,, but we had no means of preserving 
it in such a heat. Leaving our camels to follow, we 
walked forward past the reed fences which enclose the 
little gardens from the drifting sands — past the stunted 
palms and bushes, the shadoof, and the wells, and were 
soon out of sight of any trace of a green thing, with the 
mountain range of Er Bahah still on our left, and the 
bright blue sea sparkling on our right. 

At the ci Wells of Moses" we were, doubtless, on the 
track of the Israelites, and often did we think of that 
mighty host moving on froin one halting place to another, 
under the guardianship of God, to meet with Him and 
hear His voice at the covenant altar in Sinai. To the 
eye of faith, and not "mere fancy, these sands were again 
peopled with a great host, as we read the morning pas- 
sage, So Moses brought Israel from the Bed Sea, and 
they went out into the wilderness of Shur; and they 
went three days in the wilderness and found no water. 
And when they came to Marah, they could not drink of 
the waters of Marah, for they were bitter : therefore the 
name of it was called Marah" (Ex. xv. 22, 23). 

Our way for the next two days lay through the wilder- 
ness of Shur, a border strip of desert between the moun- 
tains and the sea. For the first day's march,, the most- 
prominent object in the scenery was an immense mass of 
rock rising considerably above the mountain range to our 
left, called by the appropriate name, referring to its shape, 
"Tasseh Sudr," the Cup of Sudr. There is a striking- 
resemblance between the modern and ancient name of 
this region. On the second day we all alighted at the 
bitter waters of Marah. There is now but a very scant 
supply in a hole under a limestone rock. It was brackish 



96 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



and unpleasant to the taste, but not so bitter as we 
expected. Some of our Arabs tasted it and made wry 
faces. They did little more than moisten their lips. 
Shaking their heads, they said it was "mushtaib," bad, 
and motioned us away. We filled a small bottle with 
it (as we did at the Wells of Moses), as a memorial of 
a sacred spot where God revealed Himself by a new and 
endearing name, Jehovah Kophi, the Lord thy Healer. 
A few hours more brought us to Wady Ghurundel, the 
supposed site of Elim, where, we are told in Scripture, 
there were twelve wells of water, and threescore and ten 
palm-trees. " And they encamped there by the waters " 
(Ex. xv. 27). 

The Sinaitic peninsula is a great net-work of wadies, 
and these, it cannot be too often repeated, are the dry 
beds of rivers — in short, river courses without water. 
The desert must present a strange appearance when the 
great flood tides are at their height, and the winter rains 
have filled these channels with mighty torrents, that 
work their way, like so many huge serpents, through a 
wide ocean of sand, or in deep ravines or gorges between 
high walls of rock, and leave everywhere the marks of 
their giant strength in clefts, fissures, and high embank- 
ments. Resistless torrents, drifting sands, have in the 
course of ages produced the strangest formations, leaving 
immense masses here and there in utter loneliness, and 
towering far above the sandy waste, sometimes like an 
old fortification, a pyramid, a great mutilated sphinx, or 
some hoary sentinel of the desert, over which they cast a 
grateful shade. One of these solitary masses struck us 
much on the way to Wady Ghurundel. It stood alone in 
a great space, which rose round it like a vast amphi- 
theatre. Has Moses not addressed, from the summit of 



ELIM. 



97 



that old-world rock, the hosts of Israel, who filled this 
great circle? A huge crag, j at ting out from a mountain 
mass, supplied us with all the outlines of a face of 
immense proportions ; Lord Brougham was suggested in 
connection with it, from some supposed resemblance 
between the two, and we always think of that weird- 
looking cliff as associated with the name of the " old man 
eloquent." 

The Israelites could scarcely have approached Elim 
with greater gladness than we did that night. Welcome 
was the sight of our camp fires and our white tents, which 
were pitched and ready to receive us; and still more 
welcome was Mustapha's delicious soup, after the thirst 
and fatigue of the day's march. Next morning early we 
examined this locality, and it is just such a place as 
would most likely be chosen as the camping ground of 
Israel. We did not find much water, but there are still 
many palm-trees — not the fine majestic palm of Egypt, 
shooting like an obelisk to the height of fifty or sixty 
feet, bearing aloft its coronal of beautiful leaves, but the 
wild palm of the desert, either trunkless and spreading its 
leaves from the sand, like great ferns, or with in-kneed 
and gnarled hairy trunk, the savage of his race, fighting 
for his very life in this arid waste, in company with the 
feathery tamarisk and the stunted acacia, the former re- 
sembling our silver birch. In short, the place is a wild 
palm jungle, but glad were we to see anything green, 
however tangled and dishevelled the whole might be. 
The branches were so interlaced and entangled that it 
was impossible to make our way through the thicket, 
where the hyena and other wild beasts have their lair. 
The sand was marked here and there by the trail of a 
small species of serpent. At no great distance from our 

G 



98 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



camp, we ascended a height, and looked down into a 
great hollow or basin, where some convulsion had torn 
out the very heart of the desert. The fantastic shapes, 
the dire confusion were such, that some one of our party 
named the place "The Devil's Pottery." As we write 
this, a vivid picture of the awful desolation rises before 
us. Often did we regret that we had not made geology 
a special subject of study. This peninsula is a wondrous 
field for the geologist: what a pity Hugh Miller never 
visited this region ! Its truly singular formations, and the 
grand historical epoch which has given it an imperish- 
able place in the world's history, would have furnished 
materials for what would have been his greatest book. 

On the third day after leaving the Wells of Moses, we 
passed into what a Scotchman would call the " Trossachs," 
or "Glencoe," district of this region — a great Highland 
mass of rocks rising between us and the sea, shutting it, 
for a time, altogether out of View. We gave Wady Useit 
three or four lines in our journal. — Another green spot in 
the desert, with the bright silver thread of a rill gleaming 
here and there through a scanty fringe of verdure, and 
dotted with a few stunted palms, so that some travellers 
have made this wady a rival with Ghurundel for the site 
of Elim. — Great was our surprise when we entered Wady 
Tayibeh, or "the bewildering," and found an opening 
which seemed like an ancient thoroughfare leading to 
the sea, between high and rugged rocks, presenting an 
appearance of wild and desolate grandeur. These rocky 
battlements looked like the dwellings of a race long 
since departed, and as we threaded our way between 
them, we were again and again forcibly reminded of some 
vast city of the dead, silent and deserted. This was, 
doubtless, the highway of Egypt to the ancient mines 



NATURAL ARCHWAY. 



99 



in this district; and along this very pathway did the 
Pharaohs convey their treasures to the seaboard, at no 
great distance, long before Moses had reached Horeb, 
and while the whole peninsula was as yet nameless in 
the records of history. There is an air of mystery about 
this wady, and we did feel grievously annoyed with our 
dragoman for hurrying us through it at such a speed, to 
his old tune of " bad Arabs, robbers," etc. We have still 
a very vivid recollection of giant rocks, that looked down 
upon us like colossal statues of Egyptian gods. Our 
thoughts still linger with a kind of superstitious awe 
about a great archway through which we got a passing 
glance of what appeared to be, far up in that mysterious 
entrance, the broken columns of some vast temple. That 
it is some grand freak of nature, we have no doubt, yet 
at this moment we cannot but associate in our mind a 
strange, weird-like fascination with that immense sweep 
of an arch which opens suddenly into that wall of rock. 
When we were about to turn into it, the shouts of 
the dragoman startled the echoes of this solitude, and 
reluctantly tore us from a spot which even now rises 
up before us in all its solitary grandeur. One scarcely 
knows whether more to admire the uncouth shapes which 
these rocks assume, presenting almost every conceivable 
form, or the various colours with which they are streaked. 
In all our experience of rock scenery never have we 
seen anything like these tints, and our readers must 
excuse the frequent reference to this very striking feature. 
The sea, which had been hidden for two days behind the 
mountains, flashed all at once upon us as we came out from 
this labyrinth of rocks, and we felt a degree of companion- 
ship in its very look. The camels stretched their necks, 
and, snuffing the fresh breeze, pressed forward to the shore. 



100 



THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



Through this gorge all the host of Israel must have 
defiled, for the site of no encampment can be so clearly- 
identified in the few but expressive words of Scripture, 
u And they encamped by the Red Sea" (Num. xxxiii. 10). 
The sparkle of the blue waves gleaming in the sunshine 
of a cloudless sky of still more intense blue, was a 
striking contrast to the white cliffs on the one side, and 
the black calcined masses of rock on the other. 

It is said that when the Tay burst suddenly on the 
view of the Roman soldiers, they exclaimed "Ecce Tiber!" 
What must have been the feelings of the Israelites when, 
coming down this gorge, the waters, through which they 
had been led but a few days before by the mighty and 
out-stretched arm of God, again sparkled before them at 
the end of this valley. Fain would we have lingered for 
one day at least on the site of this old encampment, with 
the great mass of Jebel Hummam rising to our right, 
the high cliffs of Zalima behind our tents, and an 
immense area all around, which can accommodate a 
vast multitude; but next day we were early on our 
march. We preferred to walk that glorious morning 
on the shell-strewn shore, with the waves breaking 
over our feet, and a fringe of seaweed running all along. 
These few hours of wading and shell gathering at 
that sacred spot can never be forgotten. We filled 
our pockets with some of the finest specimens, and 
now look upon them with peculiar interest. It was 
here that the provisions which the people had brought 
from Egypt became exhausted, and all this great host 
was thrown upon the protection and on the providing 
care of God. When they faced the sea before at Jebel 
Atakah, the Egyptians were coming down upon them 
from behind; and when they met it again at Abou 



ENCAMPMENT BY THE EED SEA. 



101 



Zalima, famine seemed to hold them in its stem and icy- 
grasp; and now, once more on the same coast, another 
deliverance was wrought: manna and quails were sup- 
plied. We saw, in fancy at least, the whole hosts of 
ancient Israel spread before us on this sandy plain at 
the rocky headland of Zalima, and the children gather- 
ing these curious shells, or wading in the sparkling- 
waters that murmured at their feet. What a thrilling 
recollection is now awakened in our mind "by that seem- 
ingly trivial announcement in the book of Numbers, "And 
they encamped by the Red Sea!" 

Every traveller who has pursued this track by the 
shore must have been struck by the buttressed appear- 
ance of the mountains. These buttresses run tapering 
upwards from the base, as if to give strength to the 
overhanging masses above. The formation of some of 
these reminded us of the Coliseum at Rome. Not far 
from the sea, we observed a series of immense terraces, 
or flights of steps, as if running up to a vast temple, 
the distance between each terrace being so uniform that 
one would have thought each step or layer had been 
made by the hand of man. Several parts of the seaboard 
have a striking resemblance to the Giant's Causeway. 
We passed through one magnificent wady after another ; 
and if the colouring of the rocks appeared to us wonderful 
before, all the previous tints that we had seen were dull 
compared with the hues that gave variety and animation 
to Wady Murka, and all onward to Mount Sinai. Mining 
operations must have been conducted in this region at a 
very early period. Mountains of what appeared to be 
debris and calcined ashes lay all around. " The Temple 
of Vulcan," " The Workshop of the Cyclops," were the 
names we applied to some of the places in this remark- 



102 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



able district. For miles we seemed to be passing over 
the sites of old foundries, and the mounds of burnt 
ashes appeared to be so recently thrown out, that one 
was almost led to look for workmen behind them. We 
ascended the narrow pass called the Nukb-el-B&drah, 
the " Pass of the Sword's Point " which winds round the 
mountain in a series of zigzags, and when on the top of 
this pass we sat down and gazed in amazement at the 
scene of wild desolation and grandeur. 

We made the following rough jottings in our journal 
which may perhaps give the reader a better conception of 
this wonderful region than a more lengthened description. 

April 2nd. — One would almost think, from the magi- 
cal tints upon the great walls of rocks, varying with the 
course of the sun from " dewy morn to dusky eve," and 
with the condition of the atmosphere, that the pillar of 
cloud by day and the shining of the flaming fire by 
night, had left imperishable traces of colouring upon these 
sublime pathways of ancient glory, where the very air 
that hangs over them seems peopled with the voices that 
spake to the hosts of Israel out of the cloud. All this 
may be the merest rhapsody to some ; but these colours, 
to the most prosaic, matter-of-fact mind, must appear to 
be something truly wonderful. This was our first im- 
pression, and it was deepened, as we came upon rocks 
veined, streaked, and crayoned all over with green, red, 
purple, yellow, and grey, and each of these shading off 
into darker hues, without the slightest sign of vegetable 
life. We noted again and again the strange, fantastic 
shapes of the rocks, torn, twisted, and thrown topsj- 
turvy — immense spaces, covered with gravelly sand, 
Nature's vast amphitheatres, every here and there sur- 
rounded by high rock galleries of many colours — a vul- 



WORKSHOP OF THE CYCLOPS. 



103 



ture perched on a cliff, the very impersonation of loneli- 
ness — oppressive silence and solitude — yon startle at your 
own voice — sound carries to an incredible distance here 
— a bird uttering a few notes, which seem to frighten 
it — a dwarfed shrub — a lonely stunted tree — not a 
human being to be seen beyond our own encampment. 
And it was through this great and terrible wilderness 
God led His ancient people ! Altogether, the scenery 
to-day has been wonderfully grand and rugged. 

How much one is completely removed here from the 
turmoil of life, from all the exciting topics of the day. 
What matters it to us whether Gladstone has carried his 
Reform Bill or not \ — no postman's knock — no letters — 
no plaguy messages — no communications from the outer 
world. And yet, after all, what would we not give for 
the briefest letter from the dear ones at home, or for this 
morning's paper 1 The faint, sweet notes of another bird 
break the deep silence, but these are tremulous all over, 
and it seems afraid to sing out in these waste places. 
Poor bird ! there is an eye over thee even in the desert, 
and thy life is in the hands of One who never slumbers 
nor sleeps. "Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, 
and not one of them is forgotten before God ? But even 
the very hairs of your head are all numbered" (Luke 
xii. 6, 7). 

So much for impressions recorded on the spot. — One of 
our most picturesque halting places was at the entrance 
of Wady Megarah, so called from the caves where mining 
operations were carried on by the ancient Egyptians. 
Our encampment was in a large circle, closed in by very 
high rocks, and the shadows which crept up these walls 
in the moonlight added a dash of still more wild and 
terrific grandeur to the scene. Standing in the centre 



104< THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 

of this amphitheatre, there seemed to be neither a way in 
nor out, and for an hour or so we watched the creeping 
shadows in the moonlight go round and round, and 
descend from the summit to the base, some portions of 
the rocky wall being wrapped in gloom, and others 
appearing in striking contrast, beautifully draped in the 
silvery light. Our white tents, our camp fires, our 
Arabs, wrapped in their loose cloaks, and stretched in 
sleep among the legs of their camels, never looked so 
thoroughly oriental as they did that night. 

Next day (the fourth since we left the Wells of Moses) 
found us threading our way through Wady Megarah. The 
greater part of this wady is like a deep cutting of several 
hundred feet, with walls of red granite and sandstone 
on either side. Nowhere have we seen such mountain 
masses, veined with black and green porphyry. The wady 
is so closed in that, at some of the turnings, you imagine 
all further progress must be stopped, just as one feels when 
sailing on some parts of the Rhine. It was here we first 
met with the famous rock inscriptions. After an arduous 
climb on the face of a steep hill, we reached two of the 
caves. One of these is now wrought by Major Macdonald 
for turquoise, and he affirms it is the only mine of the kind 
in the world. The roofs of these caves are supported by 
pillars, or portions of the rock that have been left stand- 
ing. Abundant traces of ancient Egypt are to be seen 
in tablets, hieroglyphics, and portions of broken statues. 
The whole district must have been one vast mine, from 
which she drew her mineral wealth. 

Deeply did we regret that the Major was not at home 
— and such a home ! At his urgent request, we went 
to see it. Two sides of this rough Highland shieling 
were formed by the bare rock; the other two of loose 



WRITTEN VALLEY. 



105 



stones, as they came to hand. Empty boxes that had 
contained stores were lying about in all directions, and 
here and there fragments of the Times and other news- 
papers which had been sent by friends. He had evi- 
dently taken great pains with a little garden which he 
had enclosed ; but for want of irrigation during his ab- 
sence, it looked as bare as the desert from which it had 
been won. Now that we had seen his solitary dwelling, 
we were more than ever surprised that he could have 
spent more than twenty years in this lonely retreat. 

There were few places in the peninsula that we looked 
forward to with so much interest as Wady Mokatteb, the 
Written Valley. As much time as we could possibly 
spare was devoted to the examination of the inscriptions ; 
but we felt, on the whole, disappointed, both with the 
number of these, and the style in which they were 
executed. Too much importance has been attached by 
some writers to these rude figures and scratches which 
are to be found on detached blocks of rock lying about 
here and there, and also on the face of the soft sandstone 
cliffs on either side, at no great height. The letters are, 
for the most part, from two to three inches in length. 
Several of them occur very frequently, and bear a strik- 
ing resemblance to some of the signs in Pitman's system 
of phonography. It was thought at one time that these 
written rocks would contain much confirmatory evidence 
in connection with the wanderings of the Israelites, as 
recorded in the Book of Exodus ; and those who held this 
opinion, of course, maintained the Hebrew origin of these 
writings. This theory has been exploded by recent in- 
vestigations, which seem to exhaust the subject, the result 
being that the dialect is Arabic, with some peculiarities of 
form; that the writing was done by pilgrims, and consists 



106 



THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



chiefly of their salutations and names. One thing certain 
is, that many of the letters can be traced to alphabets which 
have long since become obsolete, and this is one proof of 
the great antiquity of these inscriptions. It may be safely 
affirmed, that they belong to different periods and systems 
of religion, and represent the Pagan, the Jew, and the 
Christian. Whatever be the origin of the oldest writings 
in this valley, one cannot but look on them with deep 
interest; and they suggest many curious inquiries regard- 
ing the desert, at a period long prior to that of Moses, 
when Mount Serbal was in all likelihood a shrine of 
idolatrous worship. It was something, at least, to have 
seen the Written Valley, although we cannot pretend to 
throw any additional light upon the various figures and 
letters, after the many speculations that have been 
broached on this subject. They reminded us of the pas- 
sage in the Book of Job, " Oh that my words were now 
written ! . . . that they were graven with an iron pen, 
and lead in the rock for ever ! " Groups of animals are 
roughly drawn in odd and grotesque attitudes, but these 
do not deserve to rank higher, either in point of artistic 
skill or purpose, than those puerile efforts by which the 
walls of our public buildings are sometimes defaced. 

There is a view of surprising grandeur and glory at 
the head of Wady Mokatteb, which is for ever fixed in 
our memory. We had a very quiet camel, perhaps it was 
stupidly so. Be this as it may, we could turn on its back 
in any direction : we could either ride as on horseback, 
or sit like a tailor, or lie as on a sofa. Its owner was sur- 
prised at the liberties we took with it. We were leaving 
in our onward march the glorious scene above referred to; 
and very often, to the no small amusement of the Arabs 
and our travelling companions, did we turn our back to 



BEDOUIN PAKADISE. 



107 



the head of our camel, that we might catch every glimpse 
of that wondrous panorama, which was soon to be lost 
from our view for ever — a scene photographed upon our 
memory, but which we cannot attempt to describe. 

We felt the same difficulty in Wady Feiran, a lovely 
valley, called the Paradise of the Bedouin, combining 
much that is awfully grand in rock and mountain 
scenery, and soft, sweet, and invitingly placid in the 
leafy shade of palms, acacias, tamarisks, pomegranates, 
and the trees which bear the little bright apples for 
which this place is famous. And then the musical 
rill that came down the glen like a gush of gladness 
in this dry and parched land, with its clear, sparkling 
waters, into which the camels plunged their broad, splay, 
spongy feet as they eagerly stooped to drink, and at 
which we all gladly quenched our thirst! The music 
of that little stream was a glad voice, and the sight 
of it was most reviving in that land; for what joyous 
interest attaches to the merest thread of a rill in such 
waste places. As it gently murmured o'er its sandy bed, 
and "wimpled" through the green fringe that fell over it, 
sometimes hiding it from our view, we thought of the 
words, "In the wilderness shall waters break out, and 
streams in the desert " (Isaiah xxxv. 6). 

We only wish all our readers could have witnessed for 
themselves that scene of wild and desolate grandeur, 
the central glory of which is Serbal, the grandest moun- 
tain form we have ever seen, with its coronet of shattered 
peaks, so sharply cut and so clearly brought out against 
that sky of cloudless blue ; and that bright green spot 
which flashes up from the wide waste, like some beautiful 
island that gems the bosom of the ocean. We never tired 
of looking at Serbal. Never. It seemed ever new and 



108 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



lovely. From all points of view we counted its peaks 
again and again. It became for a while the most fami- 
liar object; we said, "Surely this must be the Mount 
of God!" and we would gladly have come to the con- 
clusion that it was so. But we had not yet seen 
the covenant altar itself on which the cloud of glory 
descended, and from which God spake to the people the 
whole words of the law. It was not at all likely that 
such a noble-looking mountain, not the highest, but the 
most prominent in the peninsula, standing apart in iso- 
lated majesty, would escape the notice of the sacred 
writers. There are two allusions to it, which occur in 
the sublime strains of Bible poetry. The Paran of 
Scripture is generally supposed to be the Feiran of the 
desert. When Moses gave his dying blessing to the 
Israelites, he thus spake of the manifestation of the 
Divine glory at the giving of the law : " The Lord came 
from Sinai, and rose up from Seir unto them ; he shined 
forth from Mount Paran, and he came with ten thousands 
of saiuts : from his right hand went a fiery law for them." 
Another prophet thus refers to the same event: "God 
came from Teman, and the Holy One from Mount Paran. 
His glory covered the heavens, and the earth was full 
of his praise" (Deut. xxxiii. ; Hab. iii.). 

The palm grove of Feiran extends two or three miles up 
the valley, and consists of several thousand trees, many 
of them, like the majestic palms of Egypt, shooting up 
fifty or sixty feet. The tamarisk, the acacia, and the nubk 
trees are not less numerous. A carpet of soft grass is 
beneath your feet ; a bubbling brook, the source of this 
tropical beauty and verdure, murmurs at your side. 
Coming from the desert worn out, weary, and parched 
with thirst, where for days you have been surrounded 



WADY FEIKAN. 



109 



by the sternest forms of desolation and sterility, you are 
filled with wonder and astonishment when you enter this 
delightful spot. It looks as if Nature had made some 
special effort in this charming region, by concentrating as 
much of life and beauty as could possibly be lavished on 
so small a space, to compensate for the utter absence of 
every green thing in the vast wastes which surround, 
like an ocean, this island of beauty. Strolling about this 
palm grove, soothed by the murmur of the brook and by 
the rustle of the palm-leaves overhead, and looking up to 
the awful forms of mountain grandeur which overhang 
this beautiful spot, we felt that it would be difficult to 
find another corner in creation like Wady Feiran. 

This was the land and, probably, the capital of the 
ancient Amalekites, and no wonder they fought for it to 
the death. The height on which Moses is said to have 
prayed while the battle raged, is occupied by the ruins 
of an old Christian city and a bishop's palace, dating as 
far back as the fifth century, a date that seems but as 
yesterday compared with the remote period when Serbal 
was a sacred shrine, and the Amalekites invoked the aid 
of their gods, when fighting in this very place for their 
altars and homes. We were struck by the number of 
ruins of what must have been small houses, probably the 
abodes of early Christians, who were drawn to this sacred 
spot by traditions, not merely of a Bible, but also of a 
Pagan origin. 

There are many huts scattered throughout this palm 
grove. The most of these were empty, as the encamp- 
ment had left for some other place. A few Bedouins 
were, however, lingering about, and they were engaged 
in the process of dyeing cloth of a dark blue colour, 
in a large pot. The dress of the women was made from 



110 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



this cloth. Their chins were tattooed with the same 
colour. They had many ornaments about the head and 
neck. One of them had a horn on the forehead composed 
of hair; probably it was designed for a 'chignon/ but 
placed on the front of the head instead of on the 
back. A husband requested his wife to withdraw her 
headcloth, and show the ornaments which she wore on 
the head and neck. She did this very timidly, and with 
some hesitation ; and when we had examined these orna- 
ments — which consisted of coins, beads, little bits of silver, 
and even gold, and what seemed to be charms — there was, 
of course, a most importunate onset for baksheesh. 

A poor lame dwarf of a Bedouin, the minstrel of the 
grove, treated us to music from a most primitive fiddle. 
On such a rude instrument, we question if Paganini him- 
self could have done any better. He sang, at the same 
time, a plaintive strain, but whether it was of war or 
love, or ancient fights and heroes, or of the beauties or 
the belles of the place, we could not tell. His eye kindled, 
showing at least some heart and excitement. We left 
this minstrel with the new name of Ossian ; but he knew 
as little of the honour we intended by this title as we 
did of his song. 

On passing one of the huts, before we had dismounted 
from our camels, some dozen or more of pretty kids 
trotted out, and, drawn by their social instincts, kept 
frisking after us as we went up the side of the rippling 
stream. Several children burst out after them, and 
catching up as many as they could in their arms, ran 
back with them to the enclosure. Two pretty pets 
continued to follow, and would not be turned by all the 
coaxing, shouting, and alarm of the children. A woman 
came out, and caught one of the two, but the other 



DEATH OF OUR PET KID. 



Ill 



gambolled after us, and would follow, in spite of all her 
efforts, and all the entreaties of the youngsters. Our 
American friends bought this one, which had manifested 
so much attachment to our party. It was placed in a 
basket, and lifted on to the saddle, and there it swung 
during all our marches till we reached Nakhul. Poor 
thing ! it left its happy home and its playmates in an 
evil hour. No green thing could be got for it in the 
desert, after leaving Sinai. Sick with the motion of the 
camel, weak for want of proper food, its plaints, like the 
weary cry of a distressed child, grew fainter and fainter, 
till it died ; and we buried it in the sand at Nakhul, not 
without a genuine touch of sorrow in all our hearts. It 
was a day of sand-storm, produced by the depressing 
Khamsin wind, when we all felt dull and heavy, and 
the death of our little kid, recalling as it did all the 
pleasant recollections of Feiran, and sending our minds 
back to that bright spot, threw a deeper gloom over that 
dreary day. We felt dull in spite of ourselves, and the 
loneliness of the desert made the death of our favourite 
touch our hearts like some family sorrow. 

Why did we not spend a night at the palm grove in 
Wady Feiran? The sheikh was anxious that we should 
see his encampment, some five hours' march farther on, 
and we were drawn away, very much to our regret, too 
soon from this bright spot. Often did we turn that after- 
noon and gaze upon the valley and the mountain peaks 
which surround it. Our disappointment was extreme 
when, on reaching the place where the sheikh expected to 
meet his people, we found they were all gone. His vexa- 
tion was as great as our own. We pitched our tents ; and 
after dinner the sheikh, who had gone to some distance, 
returned, bringing with him his wife and two genuine 



112 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



children of the desert, his own little boy and girl. The 
boy brought with him a lamb, as black as coal, for a 
present, and he came along with his father and mother 
into the tent to lay his gift at our feet. It was a great 
pet, and we gave him it back, accompanied by some other 
presents, telling him to keep the lamb till we returned. 
This pleased the father, for he was disappointed at first 
that we did not accept it. The little girl, who was car- 
ried by her mother, slept all the time, and could not by 
any shaking be awakened from her profound repose. 
The mother sat at the tent door, another instance of 
the distance at which women are kept, and of the de- 
grading notions regarding them in the East. Our Poly- 
technic wares were again produced, and some of them 
now " waste their sweetness on the desert air." 

The moon rose above Serbal, throwing a glorious white 
drapery over his coronet of shattered peaks. We hear 
much of sunrise, but the rising of the lesser orb that 
night was as wonderfully grand, in its own way, as any 
sunrise we have ever seen. One of our party went out 
and sang " All's Well," in the moonlight, and our Arabs 
were in great glee. 

Next day (the seventh from the Wells of Moses) we 
started with the intention of reaching the Convent of 
Mount Sinai about two o'clock. We were late of getting 
off, for the "Hotspur" of our Arabs had raised a quarrel, 
which was fiercer and more prolonged than usual. He 
drew his sword at some one or other, but we could not 
say who was the object of his wrath, for all were engaged 
in the melee. The sheikh and one of our friends inter- 
fered, the latter threatening, in good humour, to read 
the Riot Act ! A calm followed, but the calm of the 
Arabs in the morning is always a storm. The baggage 



AEEIVAL AT SINAI. 



113 



camels took the way through Wady Sheikh, one of 
the broadest roads in the peninsula leading to Sinai. 
Our party, headed by the dragoman, took the narrow 
and difficult pass called the Nukb Hawy, which, in 
some parts, is as steep and precipitous as the Gemmi 
in Switzerland. The strain on the poor camels was great, 
and in ascending this narrow staircase we were obliged 
several times to dismount and walk ; even walking for us 
was no easy matter. The air was scented with aromatic 
shrubs, growing here and there in the bare clefts of the 
rock. The leaders of the Israelites may have gone up 
this " Pass of the Winds " to Horeb, but the great body 
of the people must have taken the way by Wady Sheikh. 
At last, coming over the ridge, the Convent of Saint 
Catherine lay before us, with its old grey walls, its green 
patch of garden-ground, and its tall cypresses. It looked 
like a solitary picture left in a deserted chamber of some 
ancient castle. As we came down into Wady Raha, the 
Valley of Rest, we could see the monks walking on the 
top of the walls, and looking at us as we approached. 

Arrived at the convent, the dragoman shouted and 
clapped his hands, to bring some one to receive us, 
but the monks were not very easily startled into 
action. They either regarded us with suspicion, or 
acted on the principle of the Mohammedans, that "all 
speed is from Satan." At length a door was opened on 
the top, and a cord let down, with a hook attached to 
it. To this we affixed the letter of introduction which 
we had received from the Greek patriarch at Cairo ; and 
when it was drawn up and examined, a stronger rope, 
with a cross beam at the end of it, was let down by a 
windlass, the rope passing over a number of pulleys. 
Amid all the loneliness, terrible grandeur, and thrilling 

H 



114 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



associations of the place, it was scarcely possible to refrain 
from a hearty laugh, as each of our companions was pulled 
up in succession, and kept dangling in the air, five thousand 
feet above the level of the sea, like a bale of goods on a 
hoist, till dragged in by some monks at the opening above. 
All our luggage was drawn up in the same way, followed 
by Mustapha the cook, and other attendants; for it was 
our intention to remain at the convent about a week. 
Our Arabs, in the meantime, went off with their camels 
to visit an encampment of the same tribe at some dis- 
tance, on the understanding that they would return on a 
certain day. An elderly monk, with a long blue gown, 
conducted us to our apartments, with divans running 
along the sides of the walls, and, on the whole, with a 
cleanly appearance. It was a very welcome retreat, and 
one that was much needed, after the fatigue and burning 
heat of the desert. When shut in, our American friends 
observed" that they felt as if in a prison. A reply was 
given in the words of the Apostle, "Mount Sinai gen- 
dereth to bondage." 



CHAPTER VI. 



CONVENT OF SAINT CATHERINE — CELEBRATION OF EASTER — SABBATH AT 
SINAI — GIVING OF THE LAW — JEBEL MTJSA — RAS - SUFSAFEH — ANTI- 
QUITIES OF THE CONVENT — AN ARAB SUPPER — DEPARTURE FROM THE 
CONVENT — SHEIKH'S TOMB — RELIGIOUS INDIFFERENCE OF THE BE- 
DOUINS — LETTER CARRIER IN THE DESERT. 

UR rooms were on a large passage or corridor 
facing the main court of the convent, with a 
wooden rail running along it. Looking over 
this, the first things that arrest the eye are 
the leaden roof of the church, surmounted by a cross, and 
the minaret of a little mosque. The latter has been built 
to accommodate the Mohammedans who may visit the 
place, and also to make the convent more sacred in the 
estimation of the Bedouins, who nominally at least belong- 
to the Moslem faith. The Cross and the Crescent have 
thus been brought into strange proximity on Mount 
Sinai. Laying Murray's Handbook before us on the 
wooden rail of our corridor, we learn that "the convent 
is an irregular quadrangular building, 245 by 204 feet, 
encompassed by thick and lofty walls of granite, with 
little towers at intervals, on some of which are mounted 
a few antiquated pieces of ordnance." This may serve to 
give the reader some idea of the mere outward appearance 
of the convent ; but it is very difficult to convey anything 
like an accurate conception of what is contained within 
these walls. There may have been some method at first, 




116 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



some regular plan, when they were built, but all method 
has long since been lost in the complete jumble of build- 
ings, and in the countless pieces of patchwork which have 
been forced into this limited space and stuck on to each 
other, from the days of Justinian to the present moment. 
Even now there are new hatbox-looking apartments being 
added to some part of it or another, in a style of archi- 
tecture entirely different from anything that went before. 
Looking from the passage of our gallery on all this mot- 
ley group of buildings, one can have no idea whatever of 
this monkish beehive of a place. We use this word, not 
so much to convey the idea of a large population, or as 
illustrative of the lines so familiar to all good boys in 
the hymn of Isaac Watts in relation to industrious 
habits ; but to give our readers some notion of the 
outs and ins, narrow lanes and blind passages, nooks 
and corners, crannies and crevices, cells and doors 
meeting you everywhere, in galleries, and queer, out- 
of-the-way pigeon-holes, — vaults, store-rooms, archways, 
cellars, work-shops, stables; — short elbow-looking stairs, 
leading somewhere; — a mosque, a church, and a library 
(the latter we fear but seldom used, as the monks are 
no great readers, and are said to be very illiterate) ; and 
all these closely and most confusedly huddled together, 
from the charnel house below, containing the bones and 
skulls of the monks who have died here, to the rusty 
cannon on the top of the walls. You must therefore 
leave your perch on the railed gallery, and set out upon 
a tour of exploration, up-stairs and down-stairs, in and 
out, backwards and forwards, right and left (like the 
juvenile game of "Through the Needle-e'e, Boys"), down 
subterranean passages, along narrow galleries, out of one 
hole into another; and if you do anything like justice to 



CONVENT OF SAINT CATHEEINE. 



117 



this game, and without a guide, it will be as good a 
puzzle as any you have ever tried, to get back to your 
perch again. At certain times of the day, the old con- 
vent seems as if utterly deserted, and you are startled by 
your own footsteps on the ricketty stairs and the long 
dark passages. Now and then a big cat will whisk past 
you, or the black figure of a monk will glide silently out 
from some hole or corner, and, with noiseless tread, dis- 
appear in another. There is, of course, more life at times 
when pilgrims arrive, or when the brothers, with their 
mallets, summon the whole fraternity to chanting and 
reading in the little church. There is a bell, but it is 
seldom used. Somehow or other, there is a prejudice 
against bells in the East ; and out of deference, we pre- 
sume, to this Mohammedan feeling, the Greek monks at 
Sinai announce the various times of devotion, chiefly 
by striking with mallets on a piece of wood or iron, 
pierced with holes, about eight inches broad and six feet 
long, and suspended by ropes from the roof of one of the 
galleries. The beating is done in time, as if regulated by a 
musical notation. In this lonely place, where sound carries 
so far, it is heard at a great distance. It reminded us of 
the boyish practice of striking the top of a table with 
both hands to a certain number of words in an old nur- 
sery rhyme, which some of our readers may probably 
remember, beginning with the frequently repeated name 
of one who may have been an illustrious person in his 
day, " Peter Dick," etc. These measured beats, followed 
by the chanting of the monks in the church below, at 
midnight, or very early in the morning, had a strange 
effect on our mind among the solitudes of Sinai. Having 
said this much, we have about summed up all that the 
Greek Church has been doing for many centuries in the 



118 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



peninsula for spreading the glad tidings of salvation. 
The Bedouins gather round the walls of their convent, 
or they are quite within reach in the desert, but the 
monks have no mission, no message of mercy for them. 
Often must they hear the sound of the zimandro at morn- 
ing, noon, and night, but they hear no more. This is all 
that the Greek Church has done for the desert tribes. She 
makes no aggressive effort on the waste places, but 
awakens the echoes of Mount Sinai by beating her wood 
and iron so many times a day. In one sense, the brothers 
have shown how the desert, even in its sternest aspects, 
can be made to rejoice and blossom as the rose. This is 
true, at least, of their convent garden, and of other lovely 
green spots which they have won from the waste. The 
same care directed to a higher culture might surely bring 
light and hope to the Bedouin's heart and home. 

We happened to arrive at the convent the day before 
the celebration of Easter, and we were invited by several 
of the monks to attend the service in the church, which 
was to commence shortly after midnight on Sabbath 
morning. Before the service began, the mallets were 
unusually busy, and the convent bell was also rung. As 
the service was to commence so early, we did not go to 
bed, but kept strolling about from one gallery to another, 
till) the mallets and the bell summoned us to church. On 
entering it, we found the floor strewn with green leaves, 
and twigs here and there on the pillars and the walls. 
The whole of our party were present, and all that was 
expected of us was that we should hold a lighted candle 
in our hands; and as this was given us, simply in 
a spirit of friendly recognition, we saw no reason 
to refuse the proffered light. Each of us being thus 
equipped, we sat down, and remained during the whole 



EASTEK AT SINAI. 



119 



service, which lasted nearly five hours, and which we 
felt, long before it was over, to be unspeakably tedious. 
From twenty to thirty monks might be present, but there 
were no strangers besides ourselves. There was a great 
deal of chanting and reading the Gospels, all in Greek; 
but the nasal organ is called so much into action, and the 
voice is trained to such a metallic, wiry sharpness, and 
there was such, cold formality about the whole thing, that, 
in spite of all our efforts, we could scarcely think it was a 
religious service at all. With the exception of a few words 
that we recognised here and there, we might as well have 
been listening to the beating of the mallets on the ziman- 
dro. It was with great difficulty that some could keep 
from sleeping, and the lighted candle was more than once 
in danger of falling from their hands. One of our friends 
showed great wisdom in handing his candle to the drago- 
man and walking out. On the whole, he had the best of 
it, for he enjoyed an excellent cup of coffee with the Arab 
servants. After a great deal of incense-swinging, chanting, 
and reading the Gospels in the way above described, the 
whole assembly marched in procession out of the church, 
each one carrying a lighted taper. They all stood in the 
porch — the cold wind meantime sweeping down from the 
heights of Sinai, which made our position very uncomfort- 
able. The superior, an old man with a loug white beard, 
continued to read, when suddenly he seemed to be seized 
by some strong excitement, and which, as his voice 
quivered and his aged frame shook, spread to the rest, 
and they all fiercely shouted the words of what we 
regarded at the time as some ancient hymn, announcing 
the resurrection of our Lord. The voice of the old 
superior was nearly drowned, but his fervour became all 
the more intense, till we thought every instant he would 



120 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



fall down. There was a solemn pause for a few moments ; 
at length he was heard announcing, in a paroxysm of joy, 
* The Lord is risen !" which words he frequently repeated. 
They were taken up by all the monks in a rapid success 
sion of shouts; and when the enthusiasm was at its 
height, the rusty cannon on the top of the convent walls 
were fired in succession. The effect was indescribable : 
the sudden transition from cold formality to something 
like frenzy; — the waving of lighted tapers;— the shouting 
in the porch ; — the thundering echoes which the cannon 
had awakened on the heights of Sinai, rolling from peak 
to peak, from wave to wave, in that ocean of rocks, and 
then dying away in the distance. We were, at least, 
startled and deeply impressed, if we were not edified, 
For* a time we were utterly overwhelmed when we 
thought of the mighty fact of the Christian faith thus 
announced, and the associations connected with the place 
where we now stood. The fact was, at least, brought 
home to us in a way it had never been before. 

When the excitement had ceased, the superior ap- 
proached the door of the church, which had been 
closed, and, after knocking several times, he demanded 
admission in the name of the risen Lord, Some one 
answered from within. The superior knocks again, and 
this time, in imitation of Mary at the sepulchre, asks 
where the body of Jesus has been laid. The reply from 
within is, " He is not here ; He is risen !" The superior 
knocks a third time, and suddenly the door is opened — 
the church is blazing with lights, and dazzling to the 
eyes. All entered, and there was a great deal more of 
chanting and reading, but with such apparent indifference 
that the contrast between this and the furor in the porch 
was very striking. The superior, who has been very long 



SABBATH IN THE VALLEY OF EEST. 



121 



connected with the convent, had such a frail appearance 
that we thought this was probably the last time he would 
celebrate Easter. When we left the church, the full moon 
was paling her beams before the bright radiance of the 
rising sun, which tipped with quivering rays of gold the 
shattered peaks and cliffs of Sinai. It was the homage 
ot the sun to the Son of Righteousness, who arose on 
the first day of the week from the darkness of the grave, 
with healing in his wings. 

We spent several hours that morning in the plain 
of Raha, where the hosts of Israel rested, and from 
which they could all see the stern grandeur and glory 
connected with the giving of the law. We read all the 
passages of Scripture that referred particularly to the 
place. On this day our own congregation, along with 
thousands of their fellow-christians in Glasgow, sat down 
to commemorate the love of Jesus at His own table. 
They were brought under the shadow of the cross at 
Calvary; we were sitting under the shadow of these 
mighty cliffs which, long ago, had been " altogether on a 
smoke, and there were thunders and lightnings, and a 
thick cloud, and the voice of a trumpet exceeding loud, 
for the Lord came down in the sight of all the people." 
Calvary and Sinai were united in our mind as they had 
never been before, and tenderly did we remember in our 
prayers all our flock who would that day celebrate in 
the holy communion the love of Jesus. 

During the service that we held in the plain of Raha, 
several Arab children gathered about us and looked on 
with much surprise. They offered us a few specimens of 
precious stones which they had picked up in the neigh- 
bouring heights. Poor things, they were almost naked, 
but not by any means rude or importunate for baksheesh. 



122 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



They seemed to wonder very much at our service, and we 
longed to speak to them in their own language of that 
divine Friend of sinners who died at Calvary to fulfil the 
law that was given from the adjoining mountain. What 
has the Greek Church done for these poor boys ? Major 
Macdonald affirms that the Bedouins are merely Moslems 
by name, that they have little or no attachment to the 
Mohammedan faith (Mr. Palgrave, in his " Central Arabia," 
expresses the same opinion), and that they would listen 
with deep interest to the teachings of a Christian mis- 
sionary. 

If our wonder on seeing Serbal was great, this feeling 
was much more intense when we sat on the plain of 
Rah a, with the altar-shaped head of Ras-Sufsafeh right 
in front, and overlooking the whole plain ; for no one, we 
think, can look np at this height, unless he has made up 
his mind persistently to maintain some previous theory, 
without being convinced that, of all places in the penin- 
sula, this is the most fitting for the people to have seen 
all the glory that accompanied the giving of the law; 
and that of all the mountain heights, the one before him 
is the most likely to be the covenant altar of Sinai, from 
which the very words of the law were given. Such was 
the impression of every one in our party. That plain is 
like the approach to a great temple, and there is no 
temple on earth so grand, so awful as that where God 
entered into covenant with His people. The neighbouring 
height of Serbal had probably, long ere this, been a shrine 
of heathen worship. Sinai was now to be consecrated by 
the presence of the one living and true God, as a shrine 
that was to eclipse all others — the scene of the grandest 
event that had yet taken place in the history of the world, 

We were still more and more convinced that all the 



ROCK SCENERY AT SINAI. 



123 



demands of Scripture in connection with what is stated 
to have occurred at Sinai, were fully met by the plain of 
Raha and by Ras-Sufsafeh, when we stood on the top of 
that height and looked down upon the vast area below. 
That plain would be quite sufficient to contain the whole 
hosts of Israel, and from which every one would be able 
to see the awful glory that crowned the summit. On the 
top of this mountain we read, in company with one of 
our companions, all the appropriate passages in the Book 
of Exodus. We need not say more ; but that was an 
hour which neither of us will ever forget. In deference 
to our feelings, the few Arabs who were with us retired 
to some little distance, and were hid out of view in the 
neighbouring clefts. 

If a scene of awful solitude and desolation — if countless 
jagged peaks and mighty billows of rocks, as if they had 
been lashed into fury on a molten sea of lava, and when 
running mountain high were seized by an invisible hand, 
and hardened all at once into variously tinted granite, 
and left shooting their giant heads into the deep blue 
ether — if mighty masses of rock, rent, and torn, and 
tossed one above another in dire confusion, and without 
the slightest trace of any green thing on their sides or 
summits — if silence and solitude, which seem even op- 
pressive to the eagle as he swoops over these rocky 
billows, scathed and shattered by lightnings — if all this 
may be regarded as giving a special fitness to any place 
for the divine manifestation which accompanied the giv- 
ing of the law, then surely, above all places on the face 
of the earth, this wonderful region has the strongest 
claims to this honour. Next to Calvary, this is the 
world's greatest shrine, and it speaks to you of Moses, 
of Elijah, of Paul, and of all the terrible glory when 



124 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



" Mount Sinai was altogether on a smoke, because the 
Lord descended upon it in fire; and the smoke thereof 
ascended as the smoke of a furnace, and the whole mount 
quaked greatly." 

As we gazed upon that sea of rock spreading out 
before us in wild tumultuous billows, we felt as if still 
standing face to face with that ancient glory which has 
given Sinai an imperishable name and place on the page 
of history, and often were we reminded of the words of 
the psalm : 

" God, what time thou didst go forth 
Before thy people's face, 
And when through the great wilderness 
Thy glorious marching was ; 

Then at God's presence shook the earth, 

Then drops from heaven fell ; 
This Sinai shook before the Lord, 

The God of Israel." 

We repeated these words on the top of the covenant 
altar, and they were heard at a great distance, so that 
we had no difficulty as to what is stated in Scripture 
about the people hearing all the words of the law. 

We had no previous theory to support. We yielded 
up our minds to the feelings the scene could not fail to 
produce, and we were so greatly struck with the plain of 
Raha, and with the altar rock Ras-Sufsafeh overlooking 
the whole of it, that we stood for some time thrilled 
under the influence of the first impression, and of all 
those sacred associations which the locality called up. 
It was so with Dean Stanley and others who have 
visited the spot. There is a natural boundary round 
the base of that mountain, which would keep the people 
at some distance, according to the Divine command. 



THE MOUNTAIN OF MOSES. 



125 



We ascended Jebel Musa, but that mountain commands 
a view of no plain sufficient in extent to accommodate a 
host like that of ancient Israel. If there is any place 
more than another, taking all its surroundings into ac- 
count, to be identified with the august transaction of the 
giving of the law, Kas-Sufsafeh, we have no hesitation 
in saying, is that place. J ebel Musa may be the mount 
on which Moses held communion with God in the thick 
darkness. It is considerably higher than 7,000 feet above 
the level of the sea, and commands a magnificent view of 
the peninsula. A little white-washed chapel, belonging 
to the Greek Church, stands on the edge of the enormous 
precipice, and, not far from it, a small Mohammedan 
mosque. We visited the Well of Moses, and what is 
called the Cave of Elijah, the supposed scene of the event 
recorded in the First Book of Kings xix., where we read 
that there was a strong wind that rent the mountains 
and brake in pieces the rocks, and after the wind an 
earthquake, and after the earthquake a fire, and after the 
fire a still small voice, and when Elijah heard it, he 
wrapped his face in his mantle, and stood at the entering 
of the cave. One could scarcely conceive of a more fitting ' 
place for such a sublime scene as this. On our way down 
the mountain, we lunched at a ruin called the Chapel of 
Elijah, where there is a beautiful cypress, standing out in 
striking contrast with the dreary desolation all around. 

We often turned into the plain of Kaha to look up to 
Kas-Sufsafeh, which is now for ever associated in our 
mind as the covenant altar. We wandered up Wady 
Leja, past the mould in the rock where, according to 
tradition, the golden calf was cast, and round to the 
strange, massive block which Moses, it is said, struck 
with his rod, and water gushed out. Very probably the 



126 



THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



water-worn appearance of the rock may have given it 
this traditional importance. We looked with interest on 
the old convent walls of Arbaim, the scene of a dreadful 
tragedy ; for here forty monks were put to death by the 
Arabs. 

The sheikh and a stranger Arab accompanied us to 
Eas-Sufsafeh. On our return to the convent, they called 
at a black tent. A woman came out, and brought in her 
hands a large wooden platter of boiled rice. It was now 
near sunset, and the men sat down to their evening meal 
outside. They washed their hands first of all in a little 
wooden basin of water, and, without the aid of knife, 
fork, or spoon, they soon made clean work with the dish, 
clearing off all its contents with their fingers, and with a 
relish which never falls to the lot of the epicure. The 
empty dish was handed to a group of children, who nearly 
fought for the honour of scraping it. 

We stayed for six days in the convent, and during this 
time we saw the most of the old curious relics it contains : 
the site of the burning bush, behind the altar — the tomb 
of Saint Catherine, together with the splendid coffins sent 
from Russia in honour of the saint — the sickening horrors 
of the charnel house, with its bones and skulls, all ar- 
ranged in greater order than any other thing we saw in 
the convent. We enter not into other ghastly details of 
hermits and anchorites, further than to give a closing 
reference to one box, which contains the remains of two 
brothers, who lived as ascetics, chained together in the 
neighbouring mountains. It is said that they never both 
slept or ate at the same time. They were, therefore, not 
"lovely and pleasant in their lives," but it is true that in 
"death they were not divided." As we stood amidst the 
skulls and bones of this charnel house, we were reminded 



DEPASTURE FROM SINAI. 



127 



of the two lines descriptive of the horrors of Alio way 
Kirk, on the memorable night of the satanic orgie — 

s; Wi' mair o' horrible and awfu', 
Which, e'en to name wad be unlawfu'." 

On the morning we left the convent, our baggage was 
all let down to the outside by the windlass, at the trap 
door. Our Arabs had arrived with their camels on the 
previous day. Some slight changes had taken place; 
two or three went no farther than Sinai, and some new 
camels and drivers had come in their stead. Confusion 
was now worse confounded, when preparing to start, 
than ever we had seen it before. We looked down 
from the top of the convent wall at the fight raging 
below, and, from the uproarious state of matters, we 
thought that in three or four hours there might be a 
calm. On going down to see our saddle properly ad- 
justed, the onset for baksheesh was such as we never 
met anywhere in the East. Any one who has not passed 
through this ordeal, can have no idea of the annoyance. 
Our glittering wares from the Polytechnic only brought 
us into trouble at Mount Sinai. One boy out of many 
followed us with such imploring looks, and kept at it 
with such pertinacity, that we could not resist him ; 
and when we gave him a knife for himself, and a pair 
of scissors for his mother, he fairly danced for joy. But 
this only provoked him and others to make a more de- 
termined onset. We were truly glad to get inside the 
convent for a few days' rest, and we were as truly glad 
to get off, for what with the growling of some twenty 
camels, the shouting and yelling of our Arabs, and the 
incessant clamouring of stranger Bedouins of all ages for 
baksheesh, we grew desperate in our efforts to get away. 



128 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



We left in a state of mind far from favourable for solemn 
and devout impressions, and waved our last farewell to 
the old grey walls and the scene of tumult around them, 
with the feeling, that not only "bondage," but bedlam 
was there. 

Shortly after leaving the convent, we entered the 
spacious Wady es-Sheikh. Our . lunching -ground was 
close by the side of the little white dome-shaped building 
in the inside of which Sheikh Saleh is buried. Above 
his grave, on the floor, is a wooden coffin, and a handle 
of the same material, wrapped hi cloth, to mark the head. 
This coffin is covered with very faded shawls, to which 
rags and bits of strings are hung, as the votive offerings 
of the poor worshippers who from time to time have 
visited this spot. The whole place is not larger than 
a good-sized coal-cellar, and displays no more taste. A 
few grave stones are set up here and there. It is a lonely 
burial-place, and belongs to the Towarah Arabs, no others, 
however near, being permitted to lay their dead in it. 
Tradition says that this sheikh was a companion of the 
Prophet, and that he died on one of his journeys, and was 
buried here. We were told that he was a favourite saint 
among the Towarahs, and so expected to see some strik- 
ing proof of their veneration, but in this we were dis- 
appointed. Not more than three of our Bedouins entered 
the tomb. We followed, but they did not by any means 
relish our presence. Their manner, at least, was far from 
cordial, and we retired, but not till we saw two of them 
prostrating themselves, and muttering a few words, pro- 
bably of prayer. Our sheikh, though bearing the same 
name as that of the departed saint, did not enter. He 
and all the others, with the exception of the three above 
referred to, were equally indifferent. Dean Stanley gives 



GKIEVOUS DISAPPOINTMENT. 



129 



a better account of the Arabs who accompanied him 
when they came to this tomb — in other words, they 
showed more reverence to the dead saint. The scene of 
devotion which we witnessed at the grave of Sheikh 
Saleh was the only instance of religious sentiment after 
the Mohammedan fashion manifested by our Bedouins 
during the whole journey. It is said that they have still 
a superstitious veneration for the sun, and that some of 
them show it when he is rising, by prostrating them- 
selves on the sand. They seem ready for a new faith. 
God grant that it may be the faith of the Crucified 
One ! Who should carry it to them % Frequently were 
we reminded of the prayer of Abraham — "0 that Ishmael 
might live before thee !" 

On leaving the convent, our intention was to proceed 
to Petra by Akaba, but on hearing next day that the 
tribes about the ruins of this ancient rock city were 
fighting with each other, and that our dragoman re- 
guarded our proposal with the greatest apprehension, we 
resolved very reluctantly to change our route and go to 
Nakhul, and from that to Gaza, being a journey of some 

sixteen days in the desert. Colonel M ■ and his wife, 

whom we left at Sinai, had agreed to follow us in a 
day or two, and meet us at Akaba, so that they might 
proceed along with us to the ancient capital of Edom. 
It was therefore necessary that they should know of the 
change of route. One of our companions sat down on the 
sand and wrote a letter; but where was the post-office, 
and where the letter-carrier % Our sheikh went off to 
some distance — probably to some neighbouring encamp- 
ment — and returned in a little with a lad who was to 
be our postman. After giving the youth all necessary 
instructions, the sheikh took his striped cloak from off 



130 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



his own shoulders and gave it to him, that he might sleep 
in it if necessary, and also to show us that he had full 
confidence in the fidelity of the stripling. When he got 
the letter, he started like a gazelle ; it was something to 
see him run — even in the desert he was soon out of sight, 
and next morning returned with a reply. He reminded 
us of the ancient runners we read of in Scripture, espe- 
cially those whom Joab sent to David to carry intelli- 
gence of the death of Absalom. 

It was at this point of our journey that we wrote, at 
the request of a friend, the following hasty sketch of 
" A Day in the Desert." Placed now in connection with 
our continuous narrative, it may seem to contain several 
repetitions. But we give it as it was written, believing 
that our readers will like it none the less on this account. 



CHAPTER VII. 



A DAY IN" THE DESERT — MORNING'S WORK— QUARRELS OE THE ARABS — 
AN UMBRELLA CATASTROPHE — RHETORICAL AMUSEMENTS — HAPPY 
THOUGHTS — FAMISHED BEDOUINS — CAMPING GROUND — A BEDOUIN 
BUTTER MERCHANT — INTENSE THIRST — THE MIRAGE — HAGAR AND 
ISHMAEL. 

AVING been a few days in the desert, we are 
now in some measure prepared to describe our 
mode of life. One day in many respects may 
be taken as an average specimen of the rest. 
About five o'clock in the morning, the dragoman, or one 
of our attendants, takes two tin plates for cymbals and 
strikes them together at our tent door. This is the 
morning call, or reveille, agreed upon; in addition to 
which, there is a lusty shouting for us to get up at once. 
We start from our iron bedstead, sometimes not a little 
reluctant, and, having partially dressed, we get to the 
outside, where we find a tin basin, with but a very scant 
supply of water, placed on a camp-stool for a wash-stand. 
Having gone through our ablutions, we next spread a 
large Mackintosh sheet some little distance from the tent, 
and out of the bustle of the camp. On this sheet we 
lay all the articles necessary for the completion of our 
toilet, which is performed entirely in the open air. We 
find great advantage in this mode of dressing ; for if we 
remain inside, the attendants come in to pack up the beds 
and clear everything off, diving sometimes among our 




132 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 

legs, hustling us on every side, and ten to one huddling 
up some necessary article of clothing (one day a vest and 
a stocking thus disappeared) amongst the beds, which 
they roll up with a celerity truly astonishing. The Be- 
douins outside are meanwhile taking up the pins and the 
cords of the tent, so that if we do not get up, it will be 
collapsed over our heads like a big umbrella when sud- 
denly closed. It is out of the question to lie a-bed after 
these operations are commenced ; for when the tent pins 
are withdrawn and the tent collapsed, the bed and its 
inmate, if he is still there (which did happen once or 
twice), are left exposed under the open canopy of heaven, 
with the covering of the tent napping about his ears. 
Our kitchen grate, which is a long iron box pierced with 
numerous holes in the sides and bottom, and fired with 
charcoal, is placed at one end of the encampment, and 
there Mustapha the cook is busy preparing our breakfast, 
whilst now and then the morning shout of " Boil water, 
cook !" reminds him that tea is a beverage he cannot yet 
prepare. These shouts are met with angry grunts from 
Mustapha, which are greatly relished by Achmed and by 
our big boy from Thebes. But even apart from tea, our 
breakfast is far in advance of anything that the hosts of 
Israel met with in the desert : eggs in abundance, pieces 
of roasted fowl, fried potatoes and mutton, and always a 
dish of preserves, mish-mish, and sometimes Scotch mar- 
malade. Moses never dreamt of anything like that during 
the forty years in the desert. Our table, the construction 
of which we described before, is placed in the open air, 
and covered with a white cloth ; and when all the culi- 
nary preparations are ready, our party is brought together 
by the rattling of two tin plates for a bell, or the shouts 
of Achmed. Camp-stools serve for chairs, and a Bedouin 



A DAY IN THE DESERT. 



133 



boy holds a large umbrella over us to screen us from the 
sun, which is already beating fiercely over our heads. 
During all the time we are at breakfast, the hot blood 
of the Arabs is raging more fiercely than the sun. The 
packing is the great event of the day, and is never done 
without quarrelling. We sometimes wondered if the 
scanty food of the Bedouins, and the want of a bed to 
sleep on, had anything to do with this constantly recur- 
ring ebullition of noise and temper every morning at the 
same time. They sleep all night among the legs of their 
camels, with no covering about them but some old cloak 
or wrapper; and as to their food, it was always a mystery 
to us how they could exist on such scant meals. 

But notwithstanding all this privation, their blood 
always seems at the boiling point at sunrise, and all 
the time of our breakfast they succeed in keeping us 
in hot water. One would have thought that the dis- 
tribution of the luggage at the outset — so much being 
allotted to each man and camel — would have been a 
final arrangement, not for one day, but for the whole 
journey. No such thing; this would not have been 
a journey at all, according to Bedouin notions. The 
morning quarrels seemed to be a necessary part of the 
affair, and if they had a scant breakfast, they had no end 
of loud words and frantic gestures. All this was a matter 
of course to them ; it was part of their daily life ; they 
could never have done without it. It acted on them like 
a mild stimulant for the rest of the day. We had more of 
it at times, but there was never a morning without it. 
The daily distribution of the luggage was a fruitful source 
of quarrel. One Bedouin, for example, would refuse 
to allow his camel to carry what it had done the day 
before, alleging it had carried too much and some other 



134 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



had carried too little. He would therefore endeavour to 
transfer some part of his burden to another, and now 
came the fight of words, loud and long, accompanied 
with the most expressive gesticulation and the most 
threatening attitudes. Sometimes swords would be 
drawn, but the tongue was the chief weapon in the 
noisy warfare. The dragoman would rush into the thick 
of the melee and lay about him with a stick, and when 
matters became serious, which the practised eye of the 
sheikh could detect at once, his tact and judicious counsel 
succeeded in laying the storm. It was most amusing to 
survey the scene from a little distance and to listen to 
the roar of words, when we knew that nothing but 
words would come out of it. After breakfast we pre- 
ferred to walk in advance for about an hour, and then 
wait till our camels came up. At mid-day we generally 
stopped for about two hours. It was with great difficult}' 
we got the dragoman to agree to pitch the tent for 
shelter, and his continual cry was, " Robbers will come 
down upon us if we halt." There was nothing about 
pitching the tent at mid-day in the contract, but we 
carried our point and found the covering of our tent 
most grateful at noon, when there was no " shadow of a 
great rock in a weary land." How strikingly appropriate 
and expressive this Scripture language now becomes to us ! 

Amongst other good things, our lunch generally in- 
cluded a small cup of black coffee, thick as a syrup, 
without sugar or milk, and prepared by the sheikh 
himself. He pounds the beans in a little black mortar, 
which has seen much service, and the cheering beverage 
is soon hissing on the red-hot embers of the charcoal. 
We find this black coffee excellent for allaying thirst. 

Shortly after we have pitched our tents for our mid-day 



A DAY IN THE DESEKT. 



135 



rest, the baggage camels and drivers approach; they do 
not halt, but move on to the place that has been selected 
for the evening's encampment. The Bedouins pass us 
silent and exhausted, some of them seeking comfort from 
their long pipe sticks. The attendants who are more 
immediately connected with the dragoman are perched 
high up among the baggage, and, with an oppressed 
look, go swinging along. Both they and the Bedouins, 
we observe, are particularly careful to cover their heads, 
and the different kinds of head wrappings, no two of 
them being alike, have a strange appearance. Old Mus- 
tapha, the cook, in whom we have a special interest, 
brings up the rear, with a couple of kefyehs wrapped 
round his head. He is perched aloft on the back of an 
immense camel, by the side of his kitchen grate turned 
upside down, and with its legs like signal posts gleaming 
in the sun. We cannot let him pass without a friendly 
shout, "Boil — water — cook!" but to this friendly greeting 
there is no response, not even a grunt, and we charitably 
conclude he is deep in his arrangements for the next 
dinner. The strange procession moves on in silence. 
What a contrast from the fire and fury of the morning, 
when breaking up our encampment ! We are seized 
with the same dreamy spirit of silence and oppression, 
and enjoy our siesta, when it is possible to sleep in 
such a heat. After having done justice to all the good 
things provided by our dragoman, we prepare to mount 
our camels. In doing this, we throw our umbrella on the 
sand, to get a firm hold of the horns of the saddle. The 
bright glare of the sun is so great, that we do not observe 
the embers of the charcoal fire on which the sheikh has 
made his coffee, and when our ill-fated umbrella is 
handed to us, it is alFin a blaze ! What a look of anguish 



136 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



we gave, for it is of great consequence to have a large 
■umbrella, covered with white cloth. The whole thing 
must have been ludicrous in the extreme, especially our 
looks, for the loud laughter of our party makes the desert 
ring. The damage, however, is not so great — thanks to 
the kind lady who repaired it in the evening, we shall not 
say with what materials. The desert is glowing like a 
furnace, and but for the burning of our umbrella, we 
would have gone on in silence. 

By and by a breeze springs up, and our American 
friend with the retentive memory unlocks his literary 
treasures, and treats us to page after page of Milton, 
Addison, Shakespeare, Longfellow, Thomson, Tennyson, 
Cowper, etc., till we begin to think he is either an actor 
or a professor of Belles Lettres in one of the chief cities of 
the Union. What is more astonishing still, if his memory 
chance to fail him, he has only to apply to his amiable 
wife and she supplies at Once the missing link. To-day 
we think he must be exhausted. Not so, when to-morrow 
comes the variety of his quotations will be as great. One 
of our party now feels that Scotland must be represented. 
He asks the loan of the sheikh's sword, and brandishing it 
aloft on the back of the camel, recites with great energy 
Bruce's Address, " Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled." 
Then follow several quotations from Burns, given with 
true Scottish fervour, and which are greatly relished by 
the whole company, who, forgetting for a time the burning 
heat of the sun, and all the discomforts of the way, join 
together in singing "Auld lang syne," and were it pos- 
sible on the back of the camel, they would suit the action 
to the words, and join hands. We enter a wady with 
high rocks on each side, singing, " A man's a man for a' 
that !" Some may think this irreverent, and that it only 



A DAY IN THE DESERT. 



137 



betokens a spirit of levity in such a place, but we do not 
come to the desert to make it more a desert than it is, but 
as far as possible to spread through it the streams of a 
happy spirit and of cheerful converse, which sometimes, 
in spite of ourselves, would burst forth into song. This 
was more especially the case in the morning, or when the 
sun was sinking in the west, and the heat was tempered 
by a cooling breeze. Were this the spirit in which we 
sought to pass through life how many desert places 
would rejoice and blossom as the rose ! A singing spirit 
is surely to be preferred to grumbling, no matter where 
the desert is. 

All this only helped us to enter with greater zest into 
our quiet resting places of devotion, of praise and prayer, 
of reading the Word, and of solemn converse, when our 
hearts burned within us, and we felt surely God is in 
this place. Nowhere have we felt nearer the Father of 
spirits than in the "great and terrible wilderness," and 
nowhere have we sung with greater emotion the beautiful 
hymns, 

"I'm but a stranger here, Heaven is my home;" 

and — 

"Guide me, Thou great Jehovah, 
Pilgrim through this barren land ; " — 

and nowhere have we felt the words of the poet come 
home to our hearts with greater power : 

" Should fate command me to the furthest verge 
Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes, 
Rivers unknown to song; where first the sun 
Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam 
Flames on the Atlantic isles; 'tis nought to me: 
Since God is ever present, ever felt, 
In the void waste as in the city full; 
And where He vital breathes there must be joy." 



138 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



Our dragoman does not like the singing nor any demon- 
strations such as the above, and the reason he assigns for 
this is, he is afraid we may be attacked by " bad Arabs," 
an expression which he pronounced with an ominous look 
and awful emphasis. In short, he often tells us for our 
comfort, and with the most serious face, that he is afraid 
we may be attacked and murdered, and that he is obliged 
to watch by night and by day for our safe by! This is his 
" cuckoo song " since the day we started, and certainly, in 
this case, familiarity has bred contempt; we learn to 
laugh at him and all his fears about " bad Arabs," for the 
whole thing is evidently got up for a purpose. According 
to his view of the case, we could not with safety pitch 
our tent in the middle of the day; the Arabs would be 
down upon us, and carry off everything, and leave us 
wounded and half dead. The additional trouble is the 
thing that galls him, for notwithstanding all his fore- 
bodings, we have seen nothing yet worse than himself. 
With a long face he tells us at times not to talk loud, 
not to make noise, meaning not bo sing; and just as he 
concludes this advice, when our whole party had been 
singing, we see in the distance what appears to be a 
party of Bedouins. As they approach, we see that 
they have no camels. " I told you," said the dragoman, 
"that you would bring them; there they are, and we 
must prepare our guns, swords, pistols, and all " Our 
revolver is in the bottom of our portmanteau, and those 
who have their pistols, load them, look at them, and 
place them where they cannot fail to be seen if they 
are not to be used. The dragoman this time really 
seems uneasy and not to be acting a part. 

He asks us to keep together. The sheikh advances a 
few hundred yards in front, and when the strangers come 



A DAY IN THE DESEET. 



139 



up, he kisses each of them on both cheeks. We see that 
there is no need for our pistols yet. These strangers be- 
long to the same tribe with our sheikh, and they appear 
in a truly deplorable state with hunger and thirst, and 
have a most famished look. They are all armed with 
guns and swords, but are so weak and exhausted that 
they can scarcely carry them. They tell our shiekh that 
some of the Tiaha tribe had stolen their camels a few 
nights ago, and that they had gone in pursuit, but had 
taken few provisions with them, as they imagined they 
would fall in with their camels after a short march. 
They were mistaken ; they found no traces of their miss- 
ing property, and had gone on in search till they could 
proceed no farther, on account of hunger and thirst. We 
give them all we can spare, both of food and drink. On 
coming up to us, the first thing they do, after saluting 
the sheikh, is to lay hold of our water bottles, hung at 
the camel's neck, and drink them empty. After a few 
minutes' conversation with the sheikh and exchange of 
salutations, they proceed on their way, greatly relieved. 
In the spirit of a little harmless banter, we assure our 
dragoman that if our singing had attracted these poor 
Arabs, both they and we had reason to be thankful. 
We were able to shew a little kindness, and they were 
relieved. But he does not like such inroads upon his 
stores, and when we sing again, he assures us we " will 
bring more bad Arabs; steal — wound — kill," and he raises 
his gun to show us how they will do it : "I have much 
care for you, not for myself!" This may be so, Ibrahim ; 
yes, thou art a careful fellow, but self is assuredly 
uppermost. If our party will sing any more, he asks 
that we will give him a guarantee that if his canteens 
are stolen, he will be no loser thereby ! We now see the 



140 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



cause of his uneasiness ; it is his own canteens, more than 
our heads. 

The most agreeable sight during the whole day is when 
the sun is westering, and we descry our white tents in the 
distance, and begin to think of the savoury preparations 
of Mustapha, and the rest after another day's fatiguing 
march. At length the tents are reached, the camels are 
brought to their knees, and we are glad, if all is not ready 
inside, to spread a rug on the sand and lie down for a little; 
or if all is ready, in the tent — which is generally the case 
before our arrival — to throw ourselves upon the bed for 
a few minutes before washing for dinner, which is again 
repeated at the basin on the camp stool outside. On the 
tent of our American friends, the national flag, with the 
"stripes and stars," floats most gracefully, and on ours, 
the " Union J ack." These two banners are always set up 
when our tents are pitched, and give the Arabs a salutary 
idea of official dignity and union. Frequently was the 
mutual wish expressed that the same kindly feelings, the 
same friendly relations, might ever exist between the two 
countries as were manifested by the inmates of these two 
tents. 

But the beating of the tin plates (our dinner bell) 
announces that Mustapha's delicious soup is ready, so we 
place our camp stools around the table — the whole party 
dining together — America and our own country repre- 
sented at every meal in good fellowship, as they ought 
to be. We have several dishes of mutton, fowl, pigeons, 
etc., prepared in a variety of ways, and served up in 
courses — Achmed and Mohammed going between the 
cook and the tent as waiters. This is followed by a 
dessert of dates, figs, raisins, oranges, and nuts ; the 
oranges are generally picked up and laid aside for to- 



A DAY IN THE DESERT. 



141 



morrow's journey, for they will be more needed then than 
now. Tchibouks and coffee end the meal, and these glide 
into an excellent cup of tea, the brewing of which is 
superintended by ourselves. The events of the day are 
talked over : one learns to be very minute and observant 
in the desert. Some time is given to journal writing, if 
one is kept ; some portion of scripture, appropriate to the 
scene of almost every halting place, is read ; and then the 
evening prayer, in which the dear ones at home are never 
forgotten, and all our interests are committed into the 
hands of that God who never slumbers nor sleeps ; then 
the short stroll around our tents, sometimes under the 
light of the glorious moon, always under a cloudless sky 
and the bright stars, which are seen in the desert as 
they are nowhere else. Before turning into bed, we 
occasionally visit our Arabs, and give them a treat, at 
which they are all greatly delighted, exclaiming " Taib ! 
Taib !" (Good ! good !) They sing and dance to express 
their gratitude, their swarthy and tanned faces all the 
while gleaming in the light of the camp fires; some of 
them have an expression of child-like simplicity and femi- 
nine softness, others are excited and fiery, as with savage 
glee. A music-box, which rattles off some dozen tunes, 
and a mask can put them into raptures any evening. 
We have picked up the Arabic for " Good night !" and we 
amuse them by repeating it. On the whole, there is a 
great deal of the big child about them. They coil them- 
selves round the dying embers of the fire, and amongst 
the legs of the camels on the dry sand, and these poor 
children of the desert sleep soundly (certainly their sleep 
is not disturbed by a heavy supper), when " uneasy lies 
the head that wears a crown." 

We have a good bed, but, somehow or other, we cannot 



142 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



sleep. We rise and take a turn round the camp after 
midnight. The fires burn low, and there is not one of 
our party — yes, we discover one, in a sitting posture. 
He is the watcher for the hour; the rest are all buried 
in sleep and in sand — the wide, wide waste all around, 
and the sky dark from the excessive brightness of the 
■stars. Every one seems a bright eye. Surely the desert 
is the place where, above all others, we may say (and 
the words were first used there), " Thou God seest me !" 
We are startled by the cry of a jackal, resembling the 
wail of a child, and we make for our tent and fasten the 
curtain which does for a door, and at last get to sleep, 
from which we are awakened too soon next morning by 
the rattling of the tin plates and the shouts of Achmed 
to resume the march of another day. Often at the close 
of a day's march do we repeat the words of the beautiful 
hymn — 

' ' Here in the body pent, 

Absent from Him I roam, 
Yet nightly pitch my moving tent 
A day's march nearer home." 

We have not yet found that intolerable monotony in 
the desert of which some complain. The morning quarrel 
of the Arabs is, to be sure, always repeated, varying only 
in intensity; but there are new features in the scenery 
every day, and there are no worrying letters and visitors, 
in connection with a host of little petty details. There is 
one circumstance in this day's journey which we must 
not omit. Shortly after noon, and when the heat was 
intense, we came upon a most solitary habitation. It 
stood alone in the heart of the desert. But lonely as it 
was, there was a home circle — a father, mother, and 
children, and a few goats. It was difficult to see how 



A DAT IN THE DESERT. 



143 



either man or beast could subsist in such an utterly 
sterile spot. The dwelling was not exactly a tent. There 
was a pole, but instead of being stuck into the ground, 
the end of it was driven into a crevice in the face of a 
rock, and over the projecting part of the pole was thrown 
a black piece of cloth made of goat's hair, stretched out to 
its full length on both sides, and fastened to pins driven 
into the ground. A piece of blue calico was hung in 
front. A woman with her chin tatooed, and the upper 
part of her face covered with a long fringe which really 
gave her a frightful appearance, sat nursing a child. She 
withdrew into the inside of the tent when we came up. 
This was not necessary on account of her good looks. 
Suddenly there emerged from behind the curtain a thin, 
swarthy Bedouin, with a Pariah look about him, and 
carrying something black in his hand. We were horri- 
fied at first, as it had the appearance of a human head ! 
He approached the dragoman, and unrolled this black 
ball and presented him with something which he took 
out of it. This black wrapper was a goat's skin, and the 
ball that was wrapped up in it was butter ! This was the 
Bedouin's place for keeping it as cool as he could in the 
desert. He was urgent that our dragoman should pur- 
chase this product of his dairy, but no bargain was 
effected. Of all the good things Ibrahim provided for 
.us, his butter was an article which we could scarcely 
endure to look at, much less taste. This specimen of the 
Bedouin's dairy did not lessen our prejudice, although we 
are inclined to think his article may have been the 
superior of the two : it was not, at least, reduced to an 
oily fluid. 

Such is one day's life in the desert; but before closing 
our account, we would refer more particularly to the 



144 THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



burning thirst that often seized us. We then had re- 
course to one of the oranges which we had carefully 
preserved at dinner on the previous day. One after 
another is eagerly sucked, but the burning thirst is not 
quenched ; it is rather aggravated and made more impor- 
tunate ; and one now feels a new appropriateness in that 
passage describing the blessedness of heaven, "they shall 
thirst no more." We try the water in our zemzemia, or 
leather bottle, fastened to one of the horns of the saddle. 
Taking the spongy cork out, we raise the bottle to our 
parched lips, but the water is thick and hot, and tastes 
like a decoction of old leather. We have nothing better, 
and we know we cannot possibly get anything better, 
and so we are at it again and again in a short time, and 
begin to think of flowing fountains, and clear rushing 
rills, and the cool spring under the rock on which the 
sun never shone, and the " bonny wee well on the breist 
o' the brae." What would we not give for one long 
cooling draught from the icy thread of a mountain rill ? 
We are at the bottle again, and it has scarcely passed 
from our lips when an Arab comes up, and, with im- 
ploring looks and gestures, entreats for a drink. We 
nod assent, and he eagerly takes a long draught, and 
leaves but little for us. Water was the first word in 
Arabic which we learned to repeat, for we heard it so 
often. " Moyeh ! Moyeh !" we exclaimed, as we saw what , 
we took to be bright pools at no great distance. Our 
camel man shook his head mournfully, and muttered, 
"Mafeesh, serab, serab" — "It is nothing but the mirage." 
And so it was ; but the very look of it helped to divert 
our thoughts for a little, and actually to lessen our thirst. 
We thought of the hosts of Israel in these wastes, and 
what they must have suffered, and we felt that there was 



WATER IN THE DESERT-. 



145 



a new beauty in all the Scripture allusions to water as 
descriptive of spirituaL blessings — "As rivers of water in 
a dry place." " When the poor and needy seek water, 
and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, I, 
the Lord, will hear them. I the God of Israel will not 
forsake them. I will open rivers in high places, and 
fountains in the midst of the valleys ; I will make the 
wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of 
water." 

Often were we reminded of Ishmael dying in the 
wilderness of Beersheba, and the agony of his mother, 
Hagar, when the water was spent in the bottle, and she 
cast the child under one of the shrubs, probably the 
" retemj' which we saw so frequently, a species of broom, 
with long feathery tassels — " and she went, and sat her 
down over against him a good way off, as it were a bow- 
shot : for she said, let me not see the death of the child. 
And she sat over against him, and lift up her voice, and 

wept And God opened her eyes, and she 

saw a well of water ; and she went, and filled the bottle 
with water, and gave the lad drink." 



K 



CHAPTER VIII. 



WILDERNESS OF EL-TIH — CURIOUS FORMATIONS — AGREEABLE DISAPPOINT- 
MENT — SAND-STORM — ARRIVAL AT NAKHUL — AMERICAN TRIUMPH — 
SHAKESPEARE'S ANNIVERSARY — A HATED SHEIKH — LOCUSTS — BOR- 
DERS OF THE DESERT — NIGHT VISIT — BEDOUIN HORSEMANSHIP — 
FLITTING DAY — TWO ISHMAELITES — OUR GUIDE STOLEN — APPROACH 
TO GAZA — RAMBLE THROUGH THE TOWN — TELEGRAPH POLES — HOWL- 
ING DERVISHES — FAREWELL TO THE DESERT. 

T would be dry and tedious to lead our readers 
through all the wadies that lie between Sinai 
and Gaza, a journey which occupied about 
sixteen days. We shall, therefore, content 
ourselves with a few rough notes from our journal, 
containing our impressions of the scenery, with a few 
incidents that helped to give variety to these two weeks. 

One lovely morning, after an arduous climb (we were 
walking), we got to the lofty plateau of El-Tih, the 
" Wilderness of the Wanderings," and were struck with 
astonishment at the almost complete change in the 
scenery. Great stretches of hard, yellow sand made us 
think, in respect of colour, of the harvest fields of our 
own country ; — low stunted shrubs, completely dried up 
and withered, and all with a tinge of dark green and 
blue, like the leaves of green tea; — to the right, immense 
cliffs of limestone rock, with buttresses like the steps of 
a stair, and sloping inwards from the base. In many 
places these curious formations had the appearance of 




CURIOUS FORMATIONS. 



147 



waterfalls, and such was the influence of imagination, 
that, in that clear atmosphere, we actually thought we 
heard the sound of rushing water. Sometimes this 
rock formation spreads over a large surface, in broken 
waves or hummocks, like the ^ler de Glace. Xo one 
has any reason to complain of the monotony of this 
part of the desert. For hours you pass cliffs of 
limestone, as white as the driven snow. Here and 
there large detached masses have been left standing in 
utter isolation, like immense solitary sphinxes round 
which the storm has been raging for countless ages. 
These hoary watch-towers of the wilderness shoot up 
in lonely majesty and grandeur. This is really a 
wonderful sight. Is not God in the silent and waste 
places of the earth ? TVhat stretches of sand — what 
huge walls of limestone rock ! One long line of wall, 
like an embankment, stretches far away into the dis- 
tance, and ends abruptly in a frowning headland, as if 
the sea was smging at its feet. There must have been 
pyramids and sphinxes here long before Egypt was heard 
of — the builders, the storms of the desert ; the materials 
with which they wrought, the mountain masses of lime- 
stone rock which have been detached from the main 
body, and formed not only into pyramids and sphinxes, 
but into almost every conceivable shape. Occasionally 
green patches of the retem, with its tassels of white 
flowers, fall upon the eye, hi striking contrast with the 
far-sweeping stretches of sand, and flints, and the walls 
of limestone, and the broken masses, some of them 
presenting a ludicrous caricature of the face of an old 
crone. Xo creation of the painter or the poet's brain 
has ever produced such hydras, gorgons, and ogres as 
the storm has done in its wild winter-play around 



148 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



these detached masses, which sometimes stand as thick 
as stacks in a barn-yard. Silence and solitude become 
oppressive in presence of these uncouth forms, which 
work on the imagination. What a temple for Queen 
Mab! The remark was made in our own native Doric, 
" What an eerie place this would be in a dark nicht !" 

We were most agreeably disappointed with this part of 
the wilderness. We had pictured to our mind before 
entering it a vast monotonous, dreary plain of soft and 
ever shifting sand — an unbroken level, without any 
elevation but mounds of sand here and there to relieve 
the eye, and had fancied ourselves, at times, half buried 
in some of these with our camels. It was a great mistake. 
When walkino- our lio\ht canvas shoes were seldom, if 
ever, covered with sand, for much of the surface consists 
of hard, gritty gravel, and small flints. It is, indeed, 
to use a Scripture expression, "the great and terrible 
wilderness," and much of it agrees with the description 
of the poet — 

' ' A region of emptiness, howling and drear, 
Which man hath abandoned from fa min e and fear, 
Which the snake and the lizard inhabit alone, 
And the bat flitting forth from his old hollow stone ; 
Where grass, nor herb, nor shrub takes root, 
Save poisonous thorns, that pierce the foot. — 
A region of drought, where no river glides, 
Nor rippling brook, with osier'd sides, 
Nor reedy pool, nor mossy fountain, 
Nor shady tree, nor cloud-capp'd mountain, 
Are found to refresh the aching eye, 
But the barren earth and the burning sky, 
And the black horizon round and round, 
Without a living sight or sound, 
Tell to the heart in its pensive mood, 
That this is Nature's solitude." 



SAND-STORM. 



149 



There is not a little, however, to relieve the dreariness 
of all this. There are valleys, mountain ranges, deep 
ravines, and tortuous windings, with high and precipi- 
tous rocks on either side, and the varied tints of these 
are at times truly wonderful. Sometimes the way lies 
through the dry channel-bed of what must be a mighty 
and resistless torrent in the rainy season. The soil that 
has been left when the flood has abated, is cracked and 
turned up at the edges by the intense heat of the sun, 
and the broad feet of the camels crush it in pieces, like 
so much brittle pottery -ware — again we descend into 
hollows, or basins of enormous extent, and sweeping 
round and round like a vast amphitheatre, which would 
hold an immense multitude of people ; at other times we 
follow a track well-defined and hardened by the tramp 
of camels and of Arabs for thousands of years. Over this 
shining pathway millions of flints lie black and blistering 
in the sun. There is nothing but the blazing waste all 
around ; and, hot and weary, you now feel what a striking 
beauty there is in the Scriptural allusions to the varied, 
phenomena of the wilderness. You pass again and again 
the strangest formations of limestone rock, such as those 
described already, and mounds, sand hills, and long soli- 
tary embankments, like the huge railways of a giant 
race abruptly stopped. You feel as if the navvies must 
still be somewhere about, for the sand and the debris 
seem to have been lately toppled over from the invisible 
trucks. 

During the whole time we were in the peninsula, we 
had only one dreary, monotonous day, when there was 
nothing but sand, sand, sand ail over, and this was owing 
to the sirocco, which produced a suffocating heat, and 
raised the blinding dust in clouds, throwing it at times 



150 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



into the form of driving pillars. The camels plunged on 
amid the whirling drift turning their sides to the storm, 
and keeping their heads out of it as much as possible. 
When our tents were pitched at Nakhul, we dreaded 
every moment lest they should be torn to shreds, and 
scattered over the desert. 

This was so likely to be the case that we went to see 
if, in the event of being obliged to take down our tents, 
we could be accommodated in what is called the Castle, 
but what is really nothing more than a Khan, a square 
building of no great extent, and designed chiefly for 
soldiers, to command this part of the desert, especially 
during the pilgrim season to Mecca. We entered by a 
low iron door, which led into a court with a stone bench 
running along the wall, and carpets spread on it. Here 
we found the governor, as he is called, sitting with some 
others. There was no ceremony of introduction except 
the usual salaam, and the signs which accompany it. We 
sat down on the divan, or stone bench, and by-and-by 
were presented with a small cup of coffee and a tchibouk. 
The governor must be a devoted Moslem, for in the midst 
of the smoking and talking which were going on, he rose 
to his feet, adjusted his carpet, and went through his 
devotions in the presence of the motley group who re- 
garded this spurt of zeal as a matter of course. We 
were shown around the place, but a glance told us we 
would be better in our tent, if it would at all stand above 
our heads. 

There cannot be more than thirty regular soldiers in 
the Khan, if indeed so many, and yet there is not only a 
governor, but a government agent besides. The storm 
abated, and at night these two officials came to our tent, 
and sat, smoked, drank tea, and dozed for several hours. 



GUARD OF HONOUR. 



151 



We could only converse with them through the dragoman, 
but they were silent men, more given to smoking than 
talking. Nothing in the way of baksheesh came amiss, 
and some of our Polytechnic wares, such as small flutes, 
knives, scissors, etc., were gladly received. The governor 
himself was greatly delighted with a pop-gun, and the 
agent asked one for his little boy. There was however a 
little business done. According to rule, we were obliged 
to stay twenty-four hours at Nakhul before we could 
proceed to Gaza with the Towarah Arabs and their 
camels. If at the end of twenty-four hours the Tiaha 
tribes belonging to this part of the desert could not 
furnish the requisite number of camels, then we were 
free to go forward with our own men. 

Many were the applications we had at Nakhul for 
medicine and toys. Our fame as a Hakeem spread 
amongst the soldiers of the Castle and the people 
in the neighbouring huts, and our. stock of medicine 
was nearly exhausted. It was here that the poor blind 
man formerly referred to was brought to be cured. 
One had chest complaint, a second rheumatism, a third 
fever and ague, and a fourth was sore all over. We could 
soon have had a large practice, and acting on the Major's 
advice, we gave them all something, which at least 
pleased, if it did not cure them. 

At night we heard an unusual talking about our tent 
door and on looking out saw several soldiers sitting- 
round a fire with their arms piled. They had been sent 
by the governor as our guard of honour ! That evening- 
was the first time we ever went to bed under the pro- 
tection of guns and bayonets. Surely such an honour 
deserved a baksheesh. We would not have grudged 
one had they taken themselves off, for their incessant 



152 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



chatter with our Arabs kept us awake far into the 
morning. 

There is a fine supply of water at Nakhul, and it was 
a pleasant sight — calling up many scenes of pastoral life, 
as described in the Bible — to see the large flocks of sheep 
and goats gathered round the wells. The process of 
watering them was the same as in the days of Rebecca 
and Moses. The wells are deep, and built of solid ma- 
sonry. It is this abundant supply of water which makes 
Nakhul, lonely though it is, a station of considerable 
importance. We waited more than twenty-four hours, 
but there was no offer made by any of the Tiahas to 
furnish camels for the remaining part of our journey. 
The governor and the agent called next night at our 
tent, so we had to endure several hours more of dozing, 
smoking, and sipping of coffee. They gave us an- 
other illustration of the Mohammedan belief that " speed 
is from Satan;" but at last they signed a paper intimating 
that we had spent the full complement of hours at Nak- 
hul, and that no camels being forthcoming we were now 
free to move forward. The governor's seal was attached 
to the document which was intended as a safe-conduct ; 
and, to make assurance doubly sure, it was agreed that 
one of the Tiaha tribe should go with us, and explain 
matters to any of his brethren we might meet on the 
way. We were not at all favourably impressed with 
any specimens of this tribe we met at Nakhul, or in the 
course of our journey. The elderly man who went with 
us by appointment of the governor was very irritable 
and surly, not merely to the Towarahs, but to ourselves. 
He showed no sense of gratitude when auy favour was 
done him. The Towarahs are a mild, good-natured race 
in their intercourse with strangers ; the Tiahas are much 



GO A-HEAD. 



153 



more fierce and insolent. We scarcely deemed it possible 
that on the same desert there could be such a contrast. 

Shortly after lunch on the day we left the Castle, we 
were all surprised to find our tents pitched. Our sheikh, 
when questioned about this, said "that he had reached 
the place where it was always customary to stop after 
leaving the Khan." We had observed that the first 
day's journey after leaving any important place was 
always short, and the reason assigned for this seems 
to be a good one. If anything has been forgotten, it 
can be all the more readily got, as the distance is 
not far to go back. But this did not suit the views 
of our American friend, and he would teach the Arabs 
how they might go ahead. He got down from his 
camel, pulled up the tent pins, and ordered the drago- 
man to see that the camels were at once re-loaded for a 
march of at least two hours more. The Arabs were 
rather surprised, and neither they nor the dragoman liked 
this mode of treatment. It was breaking: through the 
custom of ages, and it seemed for a time as if they would 
not comply. Our party all moved forward, and, at last, 
when we were about a mile in advance, we saw the 
encampment on the move. The American spirit of pro- 
gress was triumphant in the desert, and the slow notions 
of the East were compelled to yield to it. 

On sitting down to dinner in our tent, on the night 
of the 23rd April, after a long day's march, our American 
friend reminded us that it was Shakespeare's birth-day. 
The very thought, for a time, carried us out of the desert ; 
it linked us and our lonely spot to a countless number 
of places throughout the wide world where the same 
announcement would be repeated, and where it would 
stir many hearts. We question if ever there was such 



154 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



another celebration of the poet's birth-day as that which 
we held in the desert ; for on the fact being announced, 
we naturally, and without any pre-arrangement what- 
ever, glided into the most spirited commemoration of an 
event which stands out so conspicuous in the world of 
letters. We need not particularize the dramatis personw, 
further than to say that every one of us took a part ; we 
all fell naturally into our places, and had all something 
to quote that night from the bard of Avon. It was a 
trial of memory, in which our brother Jonathan was 
victor. There was a very humorous incident connected 
with our celebration. When Achmed, who was dressed in 
a loose, white shirt, like a night gown, and who was tall 
and spare, came in with some plates in his hand, one 
of our party styled him Hamlet's ghost ! This appella- 
tion instantly brought out from another the startling 
speech of Hamlet to the ghost of his father — " Angels and 
ministers of grace defend us !" etc. Achmed understood 
English pretty well, but he had never heard such words 
before, neither had he ever seen such a dramatic air as 
that assumed by the speaker who addressed him. The 
looks of our attendant were ludicrous in the extreme. 
We all retained our gravity, and sat like judges, as one 
line after another in that famous speech came rolling 
out. Achmed was thrown into the greatest conster- 
nation. He imagined he must have committed some 
flagrant fault; and he stood in utter bewilderment, un- 
able either to speak or to move for a time. Still the 
speaker went on addressing poor Achmed, and we all 
assumed a most solemn look. He was quite confounded, 
and rolled his eyes about from one to another, but could 
get none of us to utter a word by way of explanation. 
The speaker's voice became more loud and impassioned; 



shakespeaee's anniveesaey. 



155 



his gestures more violent ; and Achmed threw down, the 
plates and rushed out of the tent, muttering some Arabic 
gutturals, as unintelligible to us as Shakespeare was to 
him. When he returned, carrying the soup tureen, he 
was again addressed, but this time in the thrilling words 
of King Lear, and with more passion and gestures than 
before : " Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks ! rage ! 
blow !" etc. The attitude of the speaker, the expression 
of his face, and the sort of confused notion that Achmed 
had of the words, so wrought upon him that, with 
wide -mouthed amazement, he dashed the tureen down 
upon the table and ran out of the tent, shouting "All 
face make too red !" He rushed to the cook and the 
dragoman, and told them, in Arabic, that we had all got 
sunstroke ! Old Mustapha was too busy with his ome- 
lettes to leave his post, but the dragoman came after 
dinner with the astonished Achmed. The muse of Shake- 
speare was still on the wing, but this time in the terrible 
soliloquy of Richard III. when about to rush on his awful 
doom: "Give me another horse! bind up my wounds!" 

Then came Wolsey's Address to Cromwell, the 
famous speech of Shylock, and scenes from Macbeth. 
Achmed still clung to his theory of the sunstroke, but 
the dragoman was of opinion that it was an English 
game, or some western "Thousand and One Nights." The 
result was that we were left to ourselves : Achmed, still 
in astonishment, expressing the hope, "to-morrow find 
better." The last scene of our celebration was outside 
the tent. It was beautiful moonlight, the forehead of 
night gemmed with stars. The words of Lorenzo to 
Jessica were never given with finer effect. We had no 
music, nor any flower-covered bank, but we had glorious 
moonlight, and our camp stools: 



156 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



" How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! 
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music 
Creep in our ears : soft stillness and the night 
Become the touches of sweet harmony. 
Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven 
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold : 
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st 
But in his motion like an angel sings, 
•Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims ; 
Such harmony is in immortal souls ; 
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay 
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it." 

Our American friend was the Roscius of the party ; and 
if his eye should ever happen to fall upon this, he will 
doubtless smile, as we now do, at the memories of that 
pleasant night. 

On turning to our journal, we find a few jottings 
descriptive of the main features of the scenery round our 
encampment on the memorable 23rd of April. " On the 
left, a long line of blue mountains ; on the right, a lower 
line of rocky heights, one detached from the rest exceed- 
ingly beautiful; at one time it looked like a white 
pyramid, but on getting nearer, and surveying it from 
another point of view, it looked like a great cathedral : — 
two shattered masses of rock (limestone), broken up into 
pyramids ; a long ridge, like a railway embankment in 
preparation for laying down the rails ; several great rocks, 
like altars in the desert; on the sides, a succession of 
steps, worn by the action of the elements ; here and 
there the feathery retem waves its graceful tassels in the 
cooling breeze ; heard again the sweet notes of a solitary 
bird; they had a melancholy, plaintive tone, made all the 
more so by the solitude in which they were uttered." 

On the third day after leaving Nakhul, we had many 
pleasant tokens that we were approaching the borders of 



BORDERS OF THE DESERT. 



157 



the desert. We had, here and there, delightful strips of 
grass and patches of wild flowers, springing out of the 
sand. The fight between the desert and a more fruitful 
soil had begun — the struggle between life and death. 
Flora, with her bright garland and her horn of plenty, 
was still at some distance, but a few flowers, at least, 
had dropped from her hand, and were now fringing the 
borders of the wilderness, and timidly shedding their 
fragrance on the desert air. Our place of mid-day rest 
was on a carpet of flowers, some of which were not un- 
like our own mountain daisy. Here and there the poppj" 
shot up its scarlet leaves, which our American friend no 
sooner saw, than he quoted the lines with which these 
flowers will be for ever associated — 

"Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower," &c. 

' ' But pleasures are like poppies spread, 
You seize the flower, the bloom is shed. " 

The desert, however, had still the mastery, for these 
strips of flowers were followed by long stretches of sand. 
These bright green patches that forced their way into the 
wide waste, as it were too soon, were like a bright day of 
sunshine that has wandered out of its place into the dead 
of winter. By and by the selvage of flowers became 
more extended, and the song of the lark occasionally fell 
like home music upon our ears, with a stronger note as 
the greenness increased. 

We frequently passed large spaces enclosed by low 
stone walls, where there was an attempt at cultivation, 
but with very little success. These low walls, at some 
parts, are very numerous, and probably mark the site of 
ancient towns that stood on the borders of the desert, at 
a time when it was much more cultivated than it has 



158 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



been for ages. These ruins — for such they really seem to 
be — form a remarkable feature of this region. The wilder- 
ness of Beersheba is not far distant ; and in this neigh- 
bourhood the patriarchs had their tents, their flocks, their 
herds, and their wells ; there they led their quiet pastoral 
life, and had their families, their sorrows, and their joys. 
We felt not only standing on the borders of the desert, but 
on the very borders of patriarchal times — the boundary 
line, as it were, of an old world. 

One day, in passing through Wady Amrie, as it was 
named to us, we came upon the tomb of a sheikh, who 
bore the same name. Those of our Arabs who had 
matchlocks fired them at this tomb. Some went forward 
and spat upon it; others threw sand and stones; all 
showed the utmost contempt for it in some way or 
other. The rush was so sudden at this hated object 
that we thought at first they were in pursuit of some 
wild animal. There is a tradition that this sheikh was 
a traitor to his tribe when it was at war with another. 
What the special act of treachery was we did not know, 
further than that his tribe, on his account, were nearly all 
cut off. His tomb to this day is an abomination to all 
the Bedouins who pass it. There are large tracts and 
mounds of very bright yellow sand in this wady, so 
bright and soft that we were induced to fill a bottle 
with it as a memorial of this accursed tomb, and as a 
specimen of the brightest sand we have ever seen. The 
mounds resemble bright ochre, and in the rays of the 
morning sun gleamed like gold. We found a live tortoise 
amongst these mounds, and carried it with us to Jerusa- 
lem, but whether it had strayed or was stolen we could 
never learn. 

We were struck with the immense number of young 



YOUNG LOCUSTS. 



159 



locusts that lay thickly heaped upon ouv path for several 
days. They were still unfledged, and could only leap 
like grasshoppers. Thousands of them, notwithstanding 
all the efforts they made to get out of the way, were 
crushed to death by the broad feet of the camels. They 
were so numerous that as they parted on either side to 
make way for our camels, they resembled a stream of 
running water both in sound and appearance. What a 
scourge these would become in a few days when they left 
their scanty feeding ground in the desert and took to the 
wing, to find their way to all green places within their 
reach. These young locusts — the drenching dews at 
night — the increasing strips of vegetation — the breeze 
that came with greater coolness — were all so many indi- 
cations that we were approaching the "great sea," and 
the fertile fields of ancient Palestine. 

On the day before we reached Gaza we occasionally 
passed, at some little distance, groups of black tents — 
Bedouin villages, or encampments, with long strips 
of cultivated ground where the barley was ripening 
for the harvest. These black tents, made of goat's 
hair, reminded us of the ''black tents of Kedar." Arabs 
going into their fields frequently passed us, riding on 
camels ; they were all armed with some kind of weapon, 
chiefly the matchlock, and they all respectfully returned 
our salutation. 

Our tent was pitched at night on a carpet of flowers. 
We saw them peeping out under our bed, our camp stools, 
and our table, and growing by the side of our bags and 
portmanteaus. It was the feast of Bairam, and we heard 
the boom of the guns that were fired at Gaza. 

The most convincing proof of all, that we were getting 
out of the desert, was a visit that was paid us that night 



160 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



from some half-score of Bedouins, who were mounted on 
swift horses, and who came dashing up to our tents 
in the moonlight, armed with long spears, stuck into 
their broad shovel stirrups, and the upper end held by 
the right hand. They evidently regarded themselves as 
lords of the soil, and looked quite a different race of men 
from our Towarahs. It was quite an oriental picture to 
see these Robin Hoods of the desert drawn up around our 
camp fires, the light gleaming on their swarthy faces, on 
their long, red, leather boots, that hung loosely about their 
legs, on their bright kefiehs and tunics, and on the curious 
trappings of their small, nimble horses, which they managed 
with great dexterity, and which were restless, and active, 
like their riders. They had come to levy black mail, or some 
considerable sum of money for the right of passing through 
their country. We left them and the dragoman to settle 
the point in dispute, which by the terms of our contract he 
was obliged to do. The picture of this bit of Eastern life 
is burnt into our memory. There was a great deal of 
noisy eloquence on both sides. The dragoman insisted 
that he had paid all the required dues to the governor of 
Nakhul, and in proof of this produced his document 
bearing his seal; and the old man who had been sent with [ 
us stood forth to bear his testimony. Whatever was their 
intention it ended in good-natured banter, and one of them 
dismounted and kissed the dragoman. After wheeling 
round our camp fire, in a style that would have done credit 
to Ducrow, throwing their long spears in the moonlight to 
a great distance, dashing on at full speed and catching 
them when they were still quivering in the sand, suddenly 
pulling up their horses, and as suddenly darting off, they 
vanished over a rising ground, leaving us standing amazed 
at their feat of horsemanship. Nothing in Astley's was 



FLITTING DAT IN THE DESERT. 



161 



ever given with finer effect. The dragoman was as proud 
of his diplomatic feat as the Arabs were of their horse- 
manship. Of course he had saved us a great amount of 
money, our property, perhaps our lives ! He never felt so 
great during the whole journey as he did that night. The 
inference was very plain, and it was this — " What could 
you do without me ? What baksheesh can be equal to 
my services V He gave us special injunctions that night 
to have all our fire-arms ready for the attack which was 
now sure to be made. It was the best night's sleep we 
had for a month, and Ibrahim slept soundly too. 

Next morning, on getting up, we were delighted to see 
strings of camels carrying several families and the whole 
of their moveables. An entire village of tents, or a large 
encampment, was on the move to some other part of the 
country. It was like a " flittin day," but in a very diffe- 
rent st}de from anything we had ever seen in the way of 
removal. There were large flocks of sheep and goats, and 
they were led, not driven, the shepherd going before them 
and playing on a pipe, a very simple musical instrument. 
The camels were much superior to any tha/t belonged to 
our Arabs, and there was an air of greater comfort about 
every one in the long procession than they had ever been 
able to exhibit. We had drawn our ideas of the desert 
life entirely from our sheikh and his followers. Here was 
something that betokened a much more comfortable state 
of matters. Compared with anything we had yet seen, 
this appeared to be the aristocratic side of Bedouin life. 
The sight brought up the old times of the patriarchs, and 
reminded us of Abraham and of his household removing 
from one place to another. 

Our mounted Arabs paid us another visit in the morn- 
ing, and treated us to another circus entertainment, 

L 



162 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



wheeling round our camp and dashing off into the dis- 
tance in fine style. The throwing of the long spear, and 
catching it up when the horse is at full speed, is a fa- 
vourite feat. A fine boy, who rode a beautiful little 
pony, was quite a prodigy for his age in horsemanship. 
The dragoman would fain have coaxed us to give all of 
them presents ; but we had done so much in this way 
before, greatly to his relief, that we left him to settle 
with this equestrian troupe. They never applied to us 
for baksheesh but they seemed to have either a new 
claim or an old score to settle with Ibrahim. Whatever 
"it was, he sought hard to roll it over on our shoulders; 
but we left him to fight it out. We had now become 
pretty well acquainted with his tactics. 

We mounted our camels that morning for the last time, 
and proceeded towards Gaza. None of our Eob Roy 
friends had been seen for at least an hour, and we were 
congratulating ourselves that we had seen the last of 
them and of their quarrel, when suddenly two of them 
rushed out from behind a mound of sand, and came dash- 
ing up towards us, carrying their long spears as above 
described. The dragoman now made a last appeal to 
our party for a present, telling us that there might be a 
hundred or two of the tribe lurking behind the mounds 
which lay to the right and the left. There was a decided 
refusal. If anything must be given, he must settle 
accounts with them. It was plain that he wished to save 
his own pocket, or, as our American friend hinted, divide 
the spoil (if it could only be got out of us) with these 
desert freebooters. As they kept talking to Ibrahim, we 
had an opportunity of studying their physiognomy. They 
were reckless, wild-looking fellows, with a dash of the 
Spanish brigand about them, the picturesque represents- 



KIDNAPPING. 



163 



tives of an Ishmaelite roving life, untamed like the desert 
itself through which they roamed. An occasional gleam 
of good humour lighted up their swarthy faces, and re- 
lieved the sternness of their looks, just as the feathery 
tamarisk and the tasselly retem give a dash of the 
poetry of nature to the wild and dreary waste. They 
had bright Jcefiehs on their heads, and these fluttered 
gaily in the morning sun. ' They never asked one of our 
party for baksheesh ; they seemed to be above this, and it 
was only with the dragoman they had any talk. If they 
had any just claim, it probably should have been met by 
the surly old Tiahan who had been sent with us from 
Nakhul. Greatly to our surprise, they suddenly turned 
upon him, and tossed his shabby turban in the air on the 
point of their spears. He thrust his hand quickly into 
his breast, as if to bring out something which had been 
too long delayed, but ere he could accomplish this, each 
of them had hold of him by an arm, and, lifting him up 
between their horses, flew with him through the desert, 
his sandals dangling in the air, his poor bald head 
gleaming in the sun, and his turban fluttering at the end 
of their spears. The scene was as ludicrous as it was 
exciting. We now laugh when we think of it. He was 
" in the hands of the Philistines," and they would, doubt- 
less, give him a shaking ere they let him go. It was a 
practical joke which the old Tiahan would not forget for 
a few days. We never received a satisfactory explanation 
of this curious transaction, but our belief is that an 
attempt was made to withhold some payment, in the 
hope that we would come forward. The mounted Be- 
douins seemed to know this, and they had no dealings 
with us at all. We never learned what they received 
from the old Tiahan, but notwithstanding all our un- 



164 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 

favourable impressions of him, we were glad that he 
sustained no bodily harm. He made his appearance next 
day in Gaza, and his turban seemed all the better for 
the shaking it had got. It was the last we saw of the 
Philistines, and they would have their own hearty laugh 
over the whole affair in their tent at night. 

On approaching Gaza, the air was vocal with the song 
of larks. It was quite a gush of melody. The sweet 
music of these songsters, the rich gardens, the green fields, 
and the yellow ones that were ripening for the harvest, 
formed a striking contrast to the desert. We pitched our 
tents near a graveyard where there are many white head- 
stones. The first thing we did after dismounting was to 
go up to a neighbouring height, crowned with a wely or 
tomb of a Moslem saint. The way lay through extensive 
gardens, abounding in fruit trees, and hedged in by the 
prickly pear, which is a very common fence in the East, 
It is a gigantic cactus, with a strange thick leaf, like the 
broad spongy foot of a camel, or a sonsy Scotch meal ban- 
nock, and full of minute sharp prickles. It has a pretty 
blossom, and the fruit, we were told, is luscious, but it 
would not be ripe for several weeks. Passing between 
great hedges of prickly pear, where the lizards were darting 
out and in with amazing celerity, we reached the top of the 
hill, and what a glorious scene burst upon our view ! On 
the south, the desert we had just left, the caravan road to 
Egypt, associated with the lives of the patriarchs and the 
Pharaohs — before us, the straggling town, like a group of 
villages (containing, it is said, 15,000 inhabitants), a por- 
tion of it lying on a hill, the other parts nestling amongst 
verdant orchards, with here and there a white mosque and 
its minaret — the belt of sand beyond the town stretching 
down to the sparkling sea ; on the east, the broad plain, 



GAZA. 



165 



with its mounds of green and red in the foreground, and 
the blue hills of Judea forming the background on the 
distant horizon. We had got out of the desert, and were 
now entering the " Promised Land," and this was the first 
view we got of its borders from the summit to which, it 
is supposed, Samson carried the gates of the ancient city. 
His strange life story was now vividly before us, especially 
the tragic scene of his death. The Temple of Dagon, in 
which the lords of the Philistines and a large multitude, 
to the number of three thousand, were gathered together, 
occupied in all probability the site of the great mosque on 
the rising ground. The blind captive stands between the 
great pillars, an object of laughter and derision to that 
multitude. He prays to the God of his fathers — his 
ancient strength returns — he strains with all his might 
at the pillars — they yield — they fall — the whole building 
gives way, and that vast assembly is buried in its ruins. 
We thought, too, of the Ethiopian eunuch passing along 
these sands, and sitting in his chariot, reading the scroll 
of the prophet ; and of the command given to Philip the 
Evangelist in these words, which are still an accurate 
description of the place : "Arise, and go toward the south 
unto the way that goeth down from J erusalem unto Gaza, 
which is desert." We carried to the top of that hill the 
offering of a grateful heart, and more than one spot was 
hallowed by silent prayer. 

Gaza is one of the oldest cities in the world, but there 
are few remains of antiquity about it possessing much 
interest. The great mosque is one of these. It is said to 
have been originally a Christian church, built by the 
Empress Helena, and dedicated to John the Baptist. There 
is also an ancient tomb, believed by the Mohammedans to 
be that of Samson. The town, as seen from the neighbour- 



166 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



ing height, has a straggling and mean appearance, for the 
houses are low and built of mud, with the exception of a 
few which occupy the rising ground, built of stone, and 
probably very old. There is no architectural beauty what- 
ever about the place. To the eye of a stranger, at some 
distance, the grey houses look like so many bean-stacks, 
in some places closely packed together. The monotony is 
relieved by a mosque and a minaret here and there, and 
by the beautiful gardens which fill up every space between 
the houses and the various clusters of villages, or suburbs, 
that make up the modern Gaza. 

No company of Japanese could have produced a greater 
sensation in any of our large towns than our party did in 
this old city of the Philistines when strolling through 

its streets and its bazaars. Mrs. C , the American 

lady, was a special object of attraction to the women, 
many of whom had, probably, never seen a lady in the 
European dress before. The people were still observing 
the feast of Bairam. A large space was filled with the 
attractions that are generally seen at a fair in our own 
country — stands for sweetmeats, merry-go-rounds, shows, 
jugglers, and a great concourse of people, with a con- 
siderable sprinkling of Turkish soldiers, whose efforts, 
in our behalf, helped to keep the crowd at a respectful 
distance. In passing through the town we observed 
several looms at work. They were very clumsy affairs 
compared with the Jacquard machine and the Paisley 
shawl loom, but quite capable of producing a rough sort 
of cloth, with brown and white strips round the borders, 
for the loose cloaks which are worn by the Bedouins. 

We had not gone far till we found we were not the 
only strangers in Gaza. The news of our arrival soon 
spread, and four young men hastened to meet us. They 



HOWLING DERVISHES. 



167 



represented Scotland, England, France, and Russia, and 
were engaged in connection with the telegraphic depart- 
ment, which had been but recently commenced, to the no 
small annoyance of the "slow coaches" of this ancient town. 
" As water to a thirsty soul," so was our presence to these 
young men that afternoon. They felt themselves com- 
pletely isolated, in the midst of a Mohammedan popula- 
tion who regarded their mission with bitter hostility. 
They took us to a garden abounding in all sorts of 
oriental fruit-trees. A few of the telegraph poles had 
been set up in this garden, and the owner of it regarded 
them with feelings somewhat akin to pious horror. What 
were all the telegraph poles and wires in the world com- 
pared to his fruit-trees 1 But for the soldiers stationed 
in the place, and a salutary dread of power in high 
quarters, these poles would soon have been chopped up 
for firewood, and the representatives of science and of 
four nationalities would have been sent adrift, or, perhaps, 
worse than that. It is something, however, to have a 
telegraph office at Gaza, where a few years ago the fanatic 
Moslems would not allow the presence of any European 
consul. The flags were torn down, although a British 
war-vessel was in the offing, That telegraph wire re- 
presents a greater power than ever lay in the majestic 
locks and brawny arms of Samson, when he carried the 
gates of the city to the top of the hill, and it will yet 
work mighty improvements in this and other lands. 

On returning to our tents in the evening, we were 
struck with a strange noise that we heard at some dis- 
tance. We could not conceive what it was at first. It 
had something like the hard measured beat of the piston 
of a steam-engine. Greatly to our surprise, on reaching 
the graveyard we found about fifty men gathered in a 



168 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



circle round a tomb, holding each other by the hand, 
swaying backwards and forwards, and uttering the 
peculiar sounds which we had heard. It is difficult to 
convey a correct notion of these extraordinary utter- 
ances, which proceed from the depths of the chest, and 
gradually increase in rapidity, till the eyes are like to 
start from their sockets. As much force seemed to be 
thrown into each utterance as the stone-breaker does in 
that peculiar vocal jerk, or sugh, with which he brings 
his hammer down upon the stone. The sheikh sat in 
the centre of the group, on one of the steps leading to 
the tomb. He regulated all their movements, and gave 
them the signal when to rest for a little, and the key-note 
of their intonations at the commencement of another turn. 
We stood and looked at this strange religious service 
with amazement ; it was the first time we had ever come 
in contact with the "Howling Dervishes." They were 
now performing what is called a " zikr " round the tomb of 
one of their sheikhs. It was hard work, for the motion 
of the body kept time with the utterance, however rapid 
it might be. Of course, there is much in habit, but many 
of the group were much exhausted with the violence of 
the action. 

Our mode of locomotion was now to be changed, as 
we could dispense with the camels. Mules and horses 
were now to take their place. Our riding horses were 
the sorriest lot of broken down hacks ever presented to 
travellers. One was lame, a second was all but blind, a 
third was the victim of asthma; the only one that was 
tolerable was given to the lady. Ibrahim solemnly 
affirmed that no better could be got in Gaza, and we 
were forced very reluctantly to believe him when no 
others made their appearance. Even our camel-drivers 



FAREWELL TO THE DESERT. 



169 



forgot their baksheesh for a little,, to enjoy a laugh when 
they saw us mounted. We had been more than a month 
with them, and we now parted with good wishes and 
kindly feelings on both sides. Every one of them carried 
off some of our glittering Polytechnic wares, and some- 
thing more substantial as a present. Poor fellows 1 in a 
day or two they would return to their tents, and to their' 
lonely wandering life among the solitudes of nature. 
Ameerie was a gentleman to the last : he never clamoured 
for baksheesh, even at parting: and it was with a peculiar 
grace and fervour he shook our hand and made his salaam. 
So was it with the sheikh. Then- eyes will never fall 
upon these pages, but the memories of our desert trip will 
linger in our hearts, and the "Hakeem" and his friends 
may perhaps be remembered when the old camping 
grounds are visited again. 

We cannot bid farewell to the desert without referring, 
in a closing sentence, to the memories which we will ever 
carry with us, of sunrise, that made the desert a blaze 
of glory — the breezy afternoons, that acted as a charm on 
our spirits — the bright sunsets, making the many-coloured 
rocks glow like the rainbow round about the throne — the 
deep blue starry vault at night, that was dark from ex- 
cessive brightness — the majesty and full splendour of the 
moon (and oh. how beautiful moonlight is in the desert :) 
— the picturesque appearance of our camp — the Arabs 
and their camels sleeping around the fires — and then, 
when we went a little way from our white tents, drawn 
on and on, and still farther on. by the wondrous stillness 
and beauty of the night, the i: eerie" feeling that crept 
over us to oppression when the sigh of the midnight wind 
came sweeping from afar, and seemed like the voice of 
eternity itself. Nor should we omit the magician work 



170 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



of the mirage, which spread over the desert at times pools 
of water that looked out like bright eyes, and brought 
up, like so many dissolving views, streams, and seas, and 
ships, and castles, and fortifications, and all the fairy work 
of a beautiful illusion, which, like many human hopes, 
all melted away. The desert waste was a vast temple, 
peopled oftentimes with bright visions, that will remain 
in our heart of hearts as "a thing of beauty and a joy 
for ever." 



CHAPTER IX. 

ANCIENT PHILISTIA — HER EIVE ROYAL CITIES — RUINS OF ASKELON 

TRIUMPHS OP THE SAND -DRIFT — SCENE AT MEJDIL — ASHDOD — EKRON 
— LIFE IN A TOMB — PLAIN OF SHARON — APPROACH TO JAFFA — 
FESTIVAL OF TABITHA— AMUSING SCENES IN JAFFA — HOUSE OF SIMON 
THE TANNER — DOING BUSINESS IN THE OLD SEAPORT — STRANGE SIGHTS 
AT THE WATER-GATE — DOG FIGHTS ON THE HILL. 




N our school-boy days, no word was more fami- 
liar to ns than the word " Philistines/' and no 
wars made a deeper impression on our boyish 
imagination than those which were waged be- 



tween this warlike race and ancient Israel. With what 
thrilling interest we used to read of those border raids, 
and the fatal battle of Aphek, where Hophni and Phinehas 
were slain — where the flower of Israel fell, and where, 
saddest stroke of all, the ark of God was taken ! And 
then the tragic death of the ancient priest as he sat by 
the wayside, blind and heavy with years, anxious to hear 
how the battle went. He could bear up under all the 
sad news, as one terrible announcement after another fell 
on his ear, till he heard the closing knell, "The Ark of 
God is taken !" and he sank to the earth under this last 
blow — which also wrung from the heart of a mother, 
dying in the pangs of a sorrow keener far than that of 
childbirth, "Ichabod, the glory is departed!" 

The tide is turned. — The prayers of Samuel bring down 
the blessing of God upon the hosts of Israel — their ene- 



172 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



mies are scattered — the stone of grateful remembrance is 
set up — "Ebenezer, hitherto hath the Lord helped us." 
Another time of reprisal comes, and we follow the shep- 
herd youth from Bethlehem to the camping ground of 
Israel, where the giant braggart from Gath came down 
with heavy armour and swaggering gait to defy the 
armies of the living God ; and the shouts of triumph rent 
the air when the stripling warrior wiped away the re- 
proach of his nation. 

Again, in the rapidly dissolving views of history, the 
mountain of Gilboa — the "Flodden Field" of ancient 
Israel, drenched in the best blood of the nation — now 
rises before us, for Saul and Jonathan, and the flower 
of the country, fell on its high places. "How are the 
mighty fallen ! Tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the 
streets of Askelon; lest the daughters of the Philistines 
rejoice, lest the daughters of the uncircumcised triumph." 
The very name of that old race has given rise to a pro- 
verbial expression still current as denoting some disaster 
or another from which there is no escape, — to " fall into 
the hands of the Philistines." 

All these early recollections, and many of the oft- 
recurring statements about the five lords of the Philis- 
tines and their five royal cities, Gaza, Gath, Askelon, 
Ashdod, and Ekron, came rushing back during our quiet 
ride through the long forest of olives immediately beyond 
Gaza, and as we cantered over the sandy heights leading 
to the ruins of Askelon. Our mind was full of the sub- 
ject when we reached the crest of the hill on which this 
famous city stood, overlooking the blue waters sparkling 
at its feet. Little more than a day's ride would have 
brought us to the sites of these five cities. With one 
exception, the modern names closely resemble those of 



EUINS OF ASKELON. 



173 



Scripture. Along the shore there is a line of bold cliffs, 
varying from fifty to eighty feet in height. At each end 
of this line there is a ridge of rock, which sweeps inland 
in the form of a crescent, and within this strong natural 
enclosure stood the greater part of the city, its walls 
running along the top of the rocky crest facing the sea. 
On getting down to the shore and looking up to this line 
of cliffs, we were struck with the commanding appearance 
the city must have occupied. It is scarcely possible to 
conceive of a finer situation ; and from that natural cita- 
del, as upon a throne, Askelon, like a queen, looked out 
upon the sea on the one hand, and the wide sweeping 
plains on the other. It was regarded by the crusaders 
as one of the most important posts in the whole land, and 
it was therefore the scene of many a bloody struggle be- 
tween the Moslem and the Christian in connection with 
Godfrey and the Fatimite Caliph of Egypt in A.D. 1099, 
and with Saladin and our own Kichard Cceur de Lion a 
hundred years after. The Lion Heart fought his way 
from Acre; and during that march of a hundred miles, 
there was a continual battle of eleven days. In the 
memorable siege which it sustained, the Knight Tem- 
plars mounted the first breach that was made. It was 
more deadly than the Charge of the Six Hundred, for 
not a man of that gallant band came back to tell the tale. 

No ruins can be more complete than those of Askelon . 
It is an utter desolation. Great fragments of the wall 
that faced the sea lie scattered about like immense boul- 
ders — the stones and the mortar bound together in a 
solid mass. One is at a loss to conjecture what mighty 
forces- could have been employed to wrench such massive 
blocks from a wall that seems to have been part of the 
rock itself. 



174 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



We clambered over these fallen masses, which will 
soon be buried in the drifting sand, and reached the 
highest part of the old battlements. Seating ourselves 
on a projecting column, we surveyed this scene of awful 
desolation. On our way up, we passed several marble 
and granite pillars, beautifully polished, and bearing tes- 
timony to the taste with which the city was adorned. 
^Fragments of marble and granite lie scattered about in 
.all directions. Patches of garden -ground, onion beds, 
hedges of prickly -pear, mounds of debris, now occupy 
the site of Askelon. There is not one inhabited house 
amono'st the ruins — not so much as the vestige of a 
modern house. The tine crescent sweep of the ancient 
city is filled up with sand. The words of David, in his 
lament for Saul and Jonathan, were repeated more than 
once as we clambered from one part of the battlements 
to another — "Tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the 
streets of Askelon." Climbing, with some difficulty, up 
the shattered wall of a tower, which is still of con- 
siderable height, we reached the top, from which the 
best view is got of this scene of desolation. It was 
a wonderful commentary on the following passages of 
Scripture, which, with the aid of a small concordance, 
we turned up on the spot : — " Baldness is come upon 
Gaza; Askelon is cut off with the remnant of their 
valley. ... thou sword of the Lord, how long will it 
be ere thou be quiet? . . . How can it be quiet, seeing 
the Lord hath given it a charge against Askelon, and 
against the sea-shore? there hath He appointed it." — 
"And I will cut off the inhabitant from Ashdod, and 
him that holdeth the sceptre from Askelon, and will 
turn mine hand against Ekron : and the remnant of the 
Philistines shall perish." — " Askelon shall see it, and fear ; 



TRIUMPHS OF THE SA^D-DRIFT. 



175 



. . . and the king shall perish from Gaza, and Askelon 
shall not be inhabited." 

Looking over to the hills of Judea from the top of this 
shattered tower, we could now understand much better 
these portions of Scripture, also the relation in which the 
ancient Philistines stood to the Jew, and the reason of 
those border raids which are so frequently referred to in 
the Bible. 

We descended from the top of this tower and went 
over the fragments of the wall, towards the north-east, 
where there are beautiful gardens filled with fruit trees, 
flowers, and vegetables. Every now and again, in the 
narrow lanes, we came upon broken columns of marble 
and oranite, and ornamented friezes which had been duo- 
out of the sand-drift. It is a remarkable fact that not a 
solitary column stands upright. At a little distance from 
the walls there is a small village where pieces of broken 
pillars are now used for door steps. Many portions of the 
ruins have also been drifted into the adjoining gardens. 
Almost every one in this village toned out to see us as 
we passed, and some came and offered us ancient coins 
and relics for sale. 

Along the coast, in some places, the sand-drift has 
gained very rapidly on the gardens and patches of culti- 
vated ground. This is particularly the case with the 
gardens belono-ino; to the village of Burbarah. The sand 
had drifted into these enclosures to such an extent that 
the tops of the trees were only appearing above it, as 
when a heavy fall of snow, in our own country, has all 
but buried the lower bushes in a garden. It was a 
painful sight, and from the operation of this cause alone 
the prophecy will not only be ftilfilled, "Askelon shall not 
be inhabited," but every vestige of the ruins will ere long 



176 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



be buried in the sand. That night we pitched our tents 
in the neighbourhood of a large village, of the name of 
Mejdil, and as dinner was not ready we all agreed to have 
a turn through this queer old-world looking place. It was 
towards evening, the people had all quit their labours in 
the fields and were enjoying a quiet hour before going to 
bed. Our appearance created quite a sensation as we 
turned into a narrow lane, at the end of which we found 
the passage blocked up with heaps of dry manure, and 
all kinds of rural accumulations. The news spread that 
strangers had arrived, and all the villagers poured into 
that narrow lane, so that we had the greatest difficulty in 
getting out. At length the sheikh came and made a way 
through the crowd, and did not leave us till we reached 
our tents. The people were full of good humour. It was 
plain that we were as great objects of curiosity to them 
as they and their village were to us. The women crowded 
round the American lady, offering her their babies to kiss. 
That visit was the source of much amusement to us and 
to the villagers. By and by we got better acquainted 
with the dirt, dung-heaps, blind passages, narrow crooked 
lanes, strange oriental costumes, and many-coloured tur- 
baned heads bobbing around. Under the guidance of the 
sheikh we made many a detour round heaps of straw and 
manure, sometimes scaling the savoury heights before we 
got back to our tents, followed by the whole village, and 
it was not till a late hour that they dispersed. Sanitary 
arrangements have never been heard of in the old land 
of the Philistines. It was sometimes difficult to distin- 
guish a heap of manure from a human habitation, and 
having said this much about one village, we have indi- 
cated pretty correctly the character of all the rest. There 
was, however, no rudeness about the inhabitants of Mejdil. 



ASHDOD AND EKRON. 



177 



They are seldom visited by strangers, and they all turned 
out to show us respect. Next morning the whole village 
was gathered about our tents — the young women were 
wrapped in loose white coverings from head to foot — the 
men, forming a wide circle round our encampment, sat 
down, and watched with great interest all our operations. 
They had evidently made up their minds for a holiday 
till we got off. The dragoman attempted to drive them 
away, but it was needless; and even after we had started 
they followed us out of the village, passing, doubtless, 
many a joke after their own fashion about our strange 
manner and appearance. 

That day brought us to the ruins of Ashdod, now called 
Esdud, a village of mud huts, situated on a rising ground. 
A small lake, a tomb, a ruined khan, a granite column, a 
sculptured sarcophagus, heaps of stones, patches of garden 
ground, are the chief features of modern Esdud. The 
Bible student must ever attach a deep interest to this 
place, as the temple of Dagon stood here, in which the 
Ark of the Covenant was placed after the fatal battle at 
Aphek, and the fish god fell from his place mutilated and 
defaced. 

Ekron, now Akir, is a village of some fifty mud huts, 
and this was the northernmost of the five cities of the 
lords of the Philistines. There are no traces of antiquity 
about it except two finely built wells; but no one can 
visit this dreary looking place without thinking of that 
day when the Ark of God was brought hither. Anxious 
to get quit of it, the terror-stricken inhabitants had re- 
course to the plan mentioned in the First Book of Samuel, 
chap. vi. Standing in the neighbourhood of this village, 
one could easily trace the route which the lowing kine, 
with the new cart bearing the object of dread, and fol- 

M 



178 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



lowed by the five lords of the Philistines, took when left 
to themselves on to Bethshemesh, the modern Ain-Es- 
Shemesh, where the people were reaping their harvest, 
and where "they lifted up their eyes and rejoiced to see 
it." 

Yebna was the next village through which we passed. 
It is beautifully situated on a rising ground, the site of 
the ancient city of Jabneh, which King Uzziah dismantled 
(2 Chron. xxvi. 6). At the village fountain, where the 
water is raised by a sakia, we watered our horses, and 
during this process many of the villagers honoured us 
with their presence. 

At night we encamped in the neighbourhood of a 
miserably dirty village situated on a hill side. The 
name of this collection of mud huts, as given by our 
dragoman, sounded something like Khubabi. A sheikh's 
tomb crowned the summit of a neighbouring hill, and 
whilst our tents were being pitched, we rode up to this 
spot, accompanied by a jet-black Nubian, who grinned 
and showed a set of teeth that would have delighted the 
heart of any dentist. On reaching the wely, or the tomb, 
we were surprised to find that it was the abode of a 
living sheikh or saint. A Moslem came up and laid 
down a piece of money on the window-sill outside, but 
the sheikh would not make his appearance, and the poor 
man went away much disappointed. Insanity qualifies a 
man here for being a saint, as the popular idea is that the 
soul is absent with God — dra wn up into union with him, 
as a token of the Divine favour. In the course of our 
journey we met with several men who were regarded by 
the people with peculiar veneration, but who were cer- 
tainly fit subjects for a lunatic asylum; some of them 
were dangerous maniacs. 



PLAIN OF SHAKON. 



179 



Our tents were pitched among quite a profusion of wild 
flowers. They were peeping out everywhere — under the 
bed, the table, and the camp-stools of our tent. Ibrahim 
had been very sparing of his carpets ; a few more pieces 
would have been very agreeable in the sands of the desert, 
but now we had nature's brightest carpet under our feet, 
both in the tent and out of it. The dews were now very 
heavy, and the tent-covering hung above our head like a 
wet blanket, reminding us of Gideon's fleece. — £C When he 
rose up early on the morrow, and thrust the fleece to- 
gether, and wringed the dew out of the fleece, a bowl full 
of water" (Judges vi. 38). 

A few hours' ride over the plain of Sharon brought us 
to Jaffa. It was rather late in the season ; the full flush 
of Spring was over, but many flowers were still lingering 
in all their beauty. The bright colours of this glorious 
carpet had not quite faded ; enough was left to make us 
put the question more than once, " What must it be in 
all the fulness and freshness of Spring V Larks were 
singing sweetly overhead; it was one continued gush of 
song; the air was flooded with melody and perfumed 
with the fragrance of flowers. The beautiful passage fre- 
quently occurred to our mind that morning, " The rain is 
over and gone, the flowers appear upon the earth, the 
time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the 
turtle is heard in the land." In a little we came out 
on the sandy plain, with great mounds rising to the left, 
and the sea beyond — wave after wave of sand, and every 
time we gained another crest, we strained our eyes to 
catch a glimpse of the famous old sea-port, but still one 
ridge after another rose between us and it till the last 
was mounted, and there lay Jaffa, crowning the crest of 
the hill, as in the days of Jonah, when he fled to find a 



180 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



ship in its harbour to carry him, as he vainly thought, 
from the fire of troubled thoughts within, and the pre- 
sence of his God. The first look we got of Jaffa from 
the sand mounds, reminded us of the words of our Lord, 
" A city set on an hill cannot be hid." At first sight it 
looked more like a castle than a town. We had seen 
the highest houses towards the land, the rest of it lay on 
the slope facing the sea. Cheered by the sight, we rode 
over the sand drift as best we could on such a hack, 
rejoicing in the prospect of dissolving partnership when 
we reached the top of the hill. Depend upon it, in spite 
of all sacred associations, a bad horse will spoil the finest 
train of thought, and it is very annoying to have this 
broken up by a complete stand -still. But we are ap- 
proaching Jaffa, and must not get peevish, like the old 
prophet. Now we are among the narrow lanes, where 
every one who walks is up to the ancles in sand — hedges 
of prickly-pear on either side. By the by, the prickly- 
pear always reminded us of a thick-set, surly, in-kneed 
sort of a man. Up the narrow lanes and you now ride 
under the grateful shade of orange groves, bright with 
yellow fruit, peeping out everywhere among the green 
leaves and the scarlet blossoms of the pomegranate. You 
wonder at the strange soil, for if you dismount, you must 
wade amongst sand. Beyond these hedges of prickly- 
pear are beautiful gardens, rich in all the luscious fruits 
and vegetable products of the East. Another turn in the 
narrow lane of sand, and we enter a long avenue, with 
oranges drooping from the branches. We thought of our 
Sunday-school gatherings and juvenile soirees, where even 
an orange is looked upon as a special treat. What a 
place for Sunday-school excursions, and how our boys 
would revel in an orange grove ! Another lane, full of 



FESTIVAL OF TABITHA. 



181 



sand, and bright with the same delicious fruit, and the 
scarlet glow of the pomegranate. 

The question, " Why do the people here not turn out for 
pic-nics V had scarcely been proposed by some one of our 
party, when, at a bend in the narrow lane, we saw a large 
number of females gathered round a fountain in the midst 
of orange trees. All the women wore a loose covering of 
cloth, as white as the driven snow. There could not be 
fewer than a hundred seated round the fountain, and their 
white dresses formed a striking contrast to the dark green 
leaves, the yellow fruit, and the bright red blossoms. The 
sight was one which struck us all greatly, and on inquiry 
our dragoman learned it was the festival of Tabitha, and 
these women were gathered round the fountain which 
was called by her name, to show the esteem in which 
they still hold one who spent much of her time in re- 
lieving distress in the old town of J oppa, and who "was full 
of good works and almsdeeds which she did." Our arrival 
thus happened to be on the very day that was set apart 
by the women of the place in commemoration of Dorcas. 
The gathering round this fountain, presenting as it did 
a very oriental and striking appearance, assumed at once 
m new and thrilling interest when we understood the 
object which these women had in view. It was a fine 
tribute of respect to female piety and worth — to a useful 
life that was spent in the neighbouring town. 

When leaving our camping ground in the desert, few 
traces were left behind to mark that we had ever been 
there ; these had no worth in themselves and could not 
benefit any who would follow. The wish was frequently 
expressed that it might not be so when we came to break 
up our earthly tent, at the close of our pilgrimage in this 
world. This was the thought which laid hold of our 



182 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLT LAND. 



mind when we saw that gathering round the tomb of 
Dorcas. "The righteous shall be in everlasting remem- 
brance." 

"The good .abides, man dies. Die, too, 
The toil, the fever, and the fret; 
But the great thought— the upward view — 
The good work done — these fail not yet ! 
From sire to son, from age to age, 
Goes down the growing heritage." 

Our tents were pitched on a sand-hill dotted with a few 
trees, the blue waves right in front, and the quaint-looking 
old town rising a little to the right like a cone, house 
above house, stair above stair, out of the sea. It is a 
strange packing-box looking sort of place, as if the design 
of the founder at first had been to try how niany houses 
could be huddled together, above and below, in nooks and 
in corners, and in all out of the way places. The streets 
are narrow tunnels and steep stairs. You may as well 
try to ride up the pyramids as go through some of these 
break-neck, blind passages on horseback. The life of the 
town is not within but outside the walls, in a large open 
common, where you walk up to the ancles in sand, and 
where there is quite a litter of booths, and sheds, and all 
kinds of branches, twigs, and straw matting, thrown over 
a few sticks crossing one another, and affording sufficient 
shade for the buyer, the seller, and the Eastern loafer. 
There are also a few wooden erections for coffee, which is 
served up as thick as a syrup, and narghilehs, and a cafigeh, 
or waiter, to bring you a bit of red-hot charcoal. Around 
these wooden cafes are stands for mules and donkeys, 
where you can get your choice of either, but there is no 
cab-stand. Such a thing was never known in this land, 
and the millennium will be far advanced when one is 



LIFE AT JAFFA. 



183 



seen in this quarter. There is not a wheel-barrow nor 
a wheeled vehicle from Dan to Beersheba. In Cairo or 
Alexandria you may call a cab, but there is an end to 
all wheels at Jaffa, "What could they do in its narrow 
streets, some of which resemble a corkscrew stair going 
up a steeple ? Donkeys, camels, and mules, are the wheels, 
the waggons, the trucks, all in one. Enter one of these 
booths, and having purchased a few delicious oranges, sit 
down under the twigs or the matting, and look out upon 
the strange scene. AT hat immense piles of vegetables and 
fruit are heaped up all around in the binning sand — 
oranges, grapes, dates, figs, bananas, cucumbers, tomatoes, 
citrons, and melons, and all in as great profusion as goose- 
berries at a Glasgow Fair. A real bit of Eastern life is 
passing before you — muleteers, fellaheen, camel drivers, 
dervishes and fakirs — women covered from head to foot 
in white — long strings of camels carrying the produce of 
acres, or proceeding to the great caravan road to Egypt 
through, the desert, with the fflitterins wares of bazaars, 
or the more substantial products of the soil — crowds of 
pilgrims, of every colour, clime, and costume, on their way 
either to Mecca or J erusalem with the unwashed dirt of 
months about them. 

Having finished your oranges, and strolled about the 
booths, pass into the town by the J erusalem gate, with 
its finely arched and sculptured front, the only gate to- 
wards the land, and ten to one you will find the cadi 
seated there hearing cases for judgment, in the midst of 
donkey boys. Arab merchants, half-naked peasants, sheikhs 
from the desert, dancing dervishes, far-travelled pilgrims, 
and Turkish soldiers. The sentence may be a fine, or a 
flogging, so many stripes or piastres. The rod settles a 
great deal in the East. Unlike all other things there, the 



184 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



cadi's judgments are quickly given, unless the heat is all 
the more intense, and there is no appeal. 

If you wish to see this old seaport to advantage, pro- 
ceed at once to the water-gate facing the sea. Select 
your boat and boatmen, and get out beyond the dan- 
gerous reef of rocks through that small opening of only 
twelve yards wide, and then look up to the terraced hill, 
with the old-world houses toppling one above another, 
and running up to the highest point, in the shape of a 
helmet. This view is picturesque and striking. If there 
is any swell on the sea, don't venture out, as there is 
great danger of being dashed to pieces on the rocks at 
the narrow opening. This life or death sort of entrance 
is the only sea-gate to Jerusalem, to which Hiram sent 
all his timber for the building of the temple, and through 
which Jonah was borne on the surge to reach the ship 
that was lying at some distance in the offing. 

A portion of the house (the old wall) of Simon the 
tanner, "by the seaside," is still pointed out. A small 
lighthouse now occupies the site; and as we saw the 
light flashing from this tower one night over the sea, we 
were reminded of that better light which had gone forth 
from the same spot to lands beyond these waters, in the 
divine message which was given to the Apostle on the 
roof of Simon's house, a message which broke down the 
partition between Jew and Gentile, "call no man common 
or unclean." 

We were commissioned to buy a few articles for Ach- 
med, Mohammed, and an orphan boy who did a few 
things for us at Jaffa, the necessary supply of money 
having been placed at our disposal by a friend. Accom- 
panied by the orphan and the two servants, we sallied 
forth to the bazaars, where we had a specimen of how 



HOW BUSINESS IS DONE. 



185 



business is done in the East. Our business was every- 
body's business, and we were soon surrounded by a tribe 
of idlers, who took as much interest in the charities we 
were called upon to dispense as we did ourselves. They 
had to examine the shirts, the tarboosh, and the cotton 
trousers. The merchant appealed to several in the crowd ; 
he showed them his articles, told them his price, and 
they acted as a kind of jury. At last the bargain was 
concluded; and after a great deal of delay on the part 
of the merchant in managing his various coins, payment 
was made, the crowd following us to the next place 
where we had purchases to make. On our return, we 
passed the shop in the bazaar where we had made the 
former purchase, and the merchant came out and told 
ns he had made a mistake in the money he had given 
us in exchange for our sovereign. The whole thing had 
to be gone over again : a money-changer was called in, 
the crowd was again appealed to, and the transaction 
was at last arranged to their satisfaction. Doubtless they 
saw that justice was done. Their interference was not 
owing to the fact that we were strangers, but that every 
one must take a part in his neighbour's affairs. The 
transaction that afternoon was slow in the extreme, and 
was the occasion of no little amusement. 

On hearing the voices of many ^Mldren one day in 
passing, we looked in at an open door and found a Jewish 
school. The little boys were reading the Hebrew Bible ; 
two teachers were present, and they and all the scholars, 
when reading, kept see-sawing with great vigour. It was 
the same in a Mohammedan school that we visited, where 
the teacher and his scholars read the Koran. In neither 
of these establishments was there a single girl present, 
and this fact is significant as to the general neglect of 
female education in the East. 



186 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



With what delight we bathed in the sparkling waters 
of the sea, much needed and much enjoyed after a month 
in the desert ! — with what a new sensation of life we 
strolled as often as we could through the fine orange 
groves, taking our own sweet will of the delicious fruits 
for a few piastres ! — with what increasing wonder and 
amazement we sauntered amongst the booths and sheds 
outside the wall, and hung, about the gate, where so 
many dissolving views of Eastern life presented them- 
selves, and dawdled through the arches, and tunnels, and 
stone-ladders of the city, down to the narrow port-hole, 
some six feet square, a mere slit in the wall, from which 
everything going out to the sea, must be tossed into the 
boats, and from which everything coming in must be 
hoisted up, the arms, legs, and backs of the Arabs being 
the only "donkey engine " used for this purpose ! Though 
Jaffa is the sea-gate to Jerusalem, our readers must never 
for a moment imagine that this entrance has either har- 
bour, basin, dock, landing stair, jetty, quay, or anything 
of the kind, but what it derives from a rugged bit of 
reef that forms a sort of breastwork to the sea water, 
which goes right up to the town wall. When there is 
any swell, the waves break over this ridge of rocks with 
great fury, shutting them out of sight altogether. All 
communication with the sea is then cut off, as it is either 
impossible or exceedingly dangerous to make the passage 
with small boats in or out through the narrow gut. Even 
in the smoothest sea, ships are obliged to lie off at a 
considerable distance. But all this only serves to make 
this old sea -port all the more quaint and primitive- 
looking. One feels certain that what it was in the days 
of Jonah, and long before, it is now. It would be Joppa 
no more if it had a harbour, and water bailiffs, and com- 



SCENES AT THE WATER-GATE. 



187 



mission ers, and sheds, and all the hoisting apparatus of 
a modern seaport. 

These boatmen must be a lot of grave, imperturbable 
fellows, without the slightest inclination to the humorous 
side of life or sense of the ludicrous, or they would be 
killed with laughter at the scenes they witness when 
hoisting up from the boats to the slit in the wall, which 
forms the water-gate of the town, pashas, consuls, pil- 
grims, bales of cotton goods from Manchester, heavy cor- 
pulent Turks, and the fat women who compose their 
harems. In this respect Jaffa stands unrivalled. Comedy 
and Farce were never so represented. It would be very 
dangerous for any man easily tickled with the ludicrous 
to saunter about the water-gate when the hoisting process 
is going forward. Sydney Smith used to say that some 
people would require to undergo a surgical operation 
before they could see the point of a joke. These boatmen 
seem to need something like this. How they can go 
through their work without an apoplectic fit from laugh- 
ter is really a matter for medical inquiry. In the hoisting 
process we witnessed some of the most awkward and ludi- 
crous combinations, some most laughable predicaments, 
that were exquisitely droll ; and whilst we were holding 
our sides, the boatmen, and others actively engaged in 
the shipping interests of the place, were coolly smoking 
their pipes, or preparing to take a cup of black comfort, 
alias coffee. 

It is not easy, even at this distance, to think of the dogs 
of Jaffa without a grudge. They seemed at least to have 
a grudge at us, and were determined that we should not 
sleep. No sooner were our tents pitched on the rising 
ground than a number of these canine watchmen, who ap- 
peared to be the guardians of the hill, took us under their 



188 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



special protection. This would have done very well had 
there not been a rival interest, and had our camping- 
ground not been a disputed territory between our guar- 
dians and another tribe who also laid claim to it. The 
claims of both parties had not yet been settled. The war 
was still fiercely raging when we arrived, but we did not 
know this till the evening, when hostilities were renewed 
and the night was made hideous with howls. As we were 
going off into the land of dreams on came the attacking 
party from the town, to dislodge our watchmen from the 
hill. Then came the tug of war. Our first impression 
was that all the dogs, not only in Jaffa, but in Palestine, 
were fighting about our tents, and would, ere long, eat us 
up. But the attacking party were driven ignominiously 
down the hill, and the fi^ht rao-ed for some time at the 
foot of it. Attack and repulse were again and again 
renewed with varying success, till about midnight the 
strangers had possession of our camping ground. There 
was a truce for a short time, and when we were again 
going off into peaceful slumbers, a sudden dash was made 
against the tent ropes making the pole and canvas shake 
violently; — then a rush in full chorus down the hill. Our 
party had returned with a reinforcement, determined to 
dislodge their assailants, which they ultimately did ; but 
the war was not yet ended. Attack and onset were kept 
up with such a horrid noise till neutrality and endurance 
on our part were impossible. We took no side, but de- 
clared war against both parties alike. It was the only 
night we had recourse to fire-arms, not for the purpose of 
killing the poor brutes, but to drive them all away. 



CHAPTER X. 

WORSE THAN A DOG TIGHT — DEPARTURE FROM JAEEA — PHOTOGRAPHS AT 

A WELL — BETH-DAGON — RAMLEH — VIEW PROM THE TOWER — LYDDA 

THE LOST PLAID— SYRIAN PEVER — PASS OP BETH-HORON— SAGACITY 
OP THE ARAB HORSE — A LILY AMONG THORNS — APPEARANCE OP THE 
COUNTRY — NEBY SAMWIL — PIRST VIEW OF JERUSALEM — IMPRESSIONS 
— GIBEON — APPROACH TO JERUSALEM — PIC-NIC PARTIES — DAUGHTERS 
OP ZION — MARKS OP THE CURSE— CITY WALLS — WITHIN THE GATES — 
PIRST NIGHT IN "THE DAMASCUS." 

HIS dog fight was, after all, to be preferred to the 
confusion, worse confounded, which greeted us 
in the morning. Just as we were preparing 
to leave Jaffa some hitch took place between 
Ibrahim and the owner of the mules and horses which 
were to carry us and our baggage during the rest of our 
journey. It was a fierce quarrel, more so than any we 
had yet seen in the desert. The owner insisted on taking 
away all his mules and horses, and ordered his black 
slave, a fine specimen of a Nubian youth, to trot them 
off. All this was followed by an unusual amount of 
thunder and lightning, in the noisy warfare that ensued. 
At last both parties went off to the Consul's office, and 
from that to the Governor's house, where matters were 
adjusted. When Ibrahim and the owner came back they 
fell to kissing one another on both cheeks. Oil had been 
thrown on the troubled waters, but this storm cost us a 
delay of some three hours. Mounting our horses, which 




190 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



showed much more mettle than those of Gaza, we rode 
slowly past the cemetery, on which we could never look 
without emotion, as we thought on the sad fate of Dr. 
Hodgkin, down to the market place, where we find it 
more than difficult to thread our way among sheds, 
booths, women haggling at the stalls, strings of camels, 
bearded and bare-legged Arabs, mules and donkeys bear- 
ing panniers filled with fruit, for which boats are waiting 
in the roadstead — several Eastern jokes are passed upon 
the Frank as he passes. At last we clear them all, and 
for an hour plod on through the burning sand, which 
must cover a splendid soil not far below, the proof of 
this being patent to all our senses in the rich gardens 
through which we passed, filled with oranges, lemons, 
and many other tempting fruits. The heat was so great, 
and the flies so troublesome, that our horse was con- 
stantly tossing his head and showing signs of distress. 
We stopped to cool his mouth at a well where the water 
is brought up by a sakia, the wheel and the pitcher 
making a merry splash in the troughs. One cannot be 
many hours in this country without attaching great value 
to a fountain. In the course of half an hour at such 
a place, one sees a great variety of life, and the well is 
the best school for the study of Eastern manners, and 
for receiving many pleasing illustrations of Scripture. 
Every one stops at the well to drink, smoke, or gossip, 
and then passes on, to make room for another dissolving 
view. What enjoyment it was to sit under the shade at 
a well for a forenoon, and study the mosaic of oriental 
life, every new group forming a necessary bit in the 
pattern, without which it would not have been complete ! 
What a study for an artist ! A photographic apparatus, 
for five hours at a well, would do more for the illustration 



TEOUBLES OME FLIES. 



191 



of Eastern life than all the word painting of as many 
volumes. But who could sit or stand in one posture for 
the time required for this process, with the blood-sucking 
flies buzzing all around ? To get quit of them the don- 
keys not unfrequently rolled themselves all over in the 
sand, the riders allowing the poor beasts to slip from 
between their legs. This was not so easily done when 
the rider, which was not seldom the case, happened to 
be a woman. Jack would let her down as gently as he 
could, and the bundle, wrapped up from head to foot, 
would manage, somehow or other, to get off without per- 
forming a somersault. Just as we arrived at the well, 
some half-dozen women came up in as many bundles on 
donkeys. One of them, partly from a frolicsome humour, 
and also from a desire to rid himself from his tormentors, 
went down into the sand, and having parted from his 
bundle, which was wrapped up in white calico, he kicked 
and rolled about most vigorously. His fair rider, though 
riding Adam fashion, managed to disentangle herself, and 
took it all in good part. This was the first time we 
really heard a woman laugh in the East. Our horse 
made three attempts on the same day to get down into 
the sand to roll about. The first time he was most suc- 
cessful in his performance; in the other two endeavours 
he was interrupted by a gentle touch from the spur. He 
had come from the grass that morning, and was disposed 
to carry out his field habits on the sand, and inclined, at 
the same time, for a practical joke. Next day he was 
quite cured. 

At a short distance from this well lies the little village 
of Beth-Dagon, half-buried amongst olives and prickly- 
pears. You cannot pass it without thinking of the fish- 
god of the Philistines, and of the humiliating plight of 



192 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



this deity when, confronted by the Ark of the Covenant, 
he fell mutilated and defaced in his temple of Ashdod. 

The country now opens, and you canter along the wide 
plain of Sharon, where herds of sheep, goats, and camels 
are feeding. The gardens and the enclosures cease till 
you reach Ramleh, which is finely situated in the midst of 
olive plantations, and which has a kindly look about it. 

The population is said to be about three thousand, and 
the houses are better built, and not so closely packed as in 
most Eastern towns. Following the dragoman we took 
through a cultivated field as the nearest for the famous 
tower, at a short distance from the town. This tower, 
which is a hundred and twenty feet in height, stands 
alone, but it was formerly connected with a mosque. The 
ruins of a spacious khan, dating probably from the time 
of the Crusaders, are in the neighbourhood. Arched 
cloisters and many subterranean vaults still exist, and 
show that this, at one time, must have been a place of 
great importance. We ascend to the top of the tower, 
from which we get our first extensive view of that land r 
which, above all others, has been the theme of song and 
story. All around us are spots of sacred interest, if you 
had only an intelligent guide to point them out. But 
the most of dragomen know but little, and care less for 
these places. They go through the country profoundly 
ignorant of its most interesting localities. Ibrahim could 
tell us little or nothing on the top of that tower, and we 
had scarcely reached the summit till he urged us to get 
down, as we had to sleep at Jimsu, and robbers might be 
in the plain. We point to a long stretch of blue water 
on the horizon, and he can tell us that is the sea, but he 
can do little more. So is it with the most of the drago- 
man tribe. 



LYDDA. 



193 



The eye rests on the white plain of the ancient 
Philistines — what a history is bound up in that one plain ! 
How often has the tide of battle rolled along it from the 
days of Joshua to Lion Heart, and from the time of the 
Crusaders to Napoleon. Yonder is Lydda, or Ludd, and, 
in fancy, we now see the Apostle Peter leaving his house 
there, and setting out in company with the friends who 
had been sent to bring him to Joppa; directing their 
course across that plain, pretty much in the same track 
that we have taken to-day — to the east, the pass of 
Beth-horon, the heights around Ajalon, and the mountains 
of Judea. This is but the merest outline, and even 
as such, most meagre. How many sacred places and 
details remain to be filled in? The impression lingers 
with us, and ever will ; but it is impossible, minutely, to 
describe the scene. 

We rode on to Lydda through lanes of sand, with 
orange groves on each side. The dirty little village, em- 
bosomed in palms and olives, with patches of cultivated 
ground lying all around, was reached in about an hour. 
The fact that the Apostle Peter had dwelt for some time 
in this place, and healed the palsy-stricken Eneas, had 
more interest for us than the deeds of Lion Heart, or 
the achievements of England's patron saint of dragon 
notoriety, who is said to have been born and buried here. 
How he came to be England's patron saint at such a 
distance, is hard to say. Be this as it may, the ruins of 
the church erected in honour of him, and which still bear 
his name, are the principal attraction of this place. The 
arch and the pillars which still remain are fine specimens 
of architecture. Looking over a wall into the court of a 
mosque, we saw several of the faithful washing their feet 
in tanks, previous to saying their prayers. On getting 



194 



THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



to the outskirts of the little village, on our way to the 
camping ground for the night, we turned round to admire 
one of the finest sunsets we saw in the East. The radi- 
ance gleamed through the feathery branches of some palm 
trees, and the minaret and old ruins of the church of St. 
George were burnished with gold. It was here, while 
seated on horseback admiring the glory of the setting 
sun, and thinking of the sacred associations of the place, 
that our good Scotch plaid, which had accompanied us in 
many a journey, must have slipped, unobserved by any of 
the party, from the saddle. The loss was not discovered 
till we had nearly reached Jimsu. The sun had set, and 
the chill air and heavy dew reminded us that it was time 
to get the plaid over our shoulders. It was gone ! Where 
could it be? No one had seen it fall. We concluded 
that it must have dropped from the saddle shortly after 
leaving Lydda, while we were looking at the setting 
sun. Accompanied by the dragoman Ave rode back as fast 
as we could, but no plaid was to be found. Night had 
set in, the stars were gleaming overhead, and Ibrahim 
raised his old story of "bad Arab," and turned back, 
shouting on us to follow. Very reluctantly we were 
compelled to give up the search, for we knew full well 
it could not possibly be replaced. The loss of our plaid 
in that strange land, trifling as it may seem, was to us 
like the loss of a friend. No reference whatever would 
now be made to it, but for the somewhat serious con- 
sequences that followed, and which may be a warning 
to some future traveller in the East. On reaching our 
encampment, long after sunset, we felt chilled all over 
by the night air and the heavy dews. The result was a 
fever, which hung about us for several weeks, depriving 
us of our sleep, filling our bones with aching pains, and 



BETH-HORON. 



195 



compelling us to fight our way through the greater part 
of Palestine. This might have happened independently 
of the loss of our plaid, but there seemed to be a close 
connection between the two. One of our attendants 
went back to Lydda early next morning to make inquiry 
about the missing article, but without success. It would 
make an excellent blanket for a Bedouin, or a covering 
for his tent, and should we ever return, we will not 
grudge our friends the use of it. The chilly air and the 
heavy dews of that night, and the effects of these in the 
fever that followed, gave peculiar force to the words of 
Jacob, " In the day the drought consumed me, and the frost 
by night." Nothing could more accurately describe the 
Syrian climate at a certain time of the year. Next 
morning, on striking our tents, a great number of the 
villagers formed a circle, and looked on in idle curiosity. 

Nowhere have we encountered a pass so difficult to 
climb on horseback as that of Beth-horon. Ibrahim was 
an utter stranger to the pass, and we had to beat 
about for a considerable time before we got into the 
right track. It is not easy to give our readers any 
accurate idea of the difficulty of that mountain path. 
First of all, the day was intensely hot to begin with 
— the air was not merely like a hothouse, but the rays of 
the sun were fierce and blistering in that mountain gorge. 
The difficulty did not lie so much in the steepness of the 
ascent — it is nothing in this respect compared with the 
Gemmi — it was not that the path was narrow, wild, and 
rugged, but the difficulty lay in the shape and polish of 
the stones. The track seemed to be the dry bed of a 
winter torrent; the stones were skull shaped and polished 
like marble. At times the way led up a very steep 
ascent of solid limestone rock, with a polish equal to 



196 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



that of a mantelpiece, and the sure-footed horse would 
pause for a little before proceeding, and very patiently 
form a judgment in its own way as to the best step 
to be taken. The sure footedness and sagacity of these 
Arab horses are truly wonderful. At a very awkward 
and dangerous-looking place you may wish your horse to 
get over it by taking to the right, but it has come to a 
different conclusion and you must allow it to take its own 
bent, and you invariably find that it is the best. Often 
had we reason to admire the above all-important qualities 
in our Arab cob in threading the pass of Beth-horon. When 
we felt inclined to pull in one way at a difficult step, and 
had indicated, very unmistakeably, our wishes in this 
direction, our horse, now put to its mettle, would stand 
and weigh the matter for a few moments and come to quite 
a contrary decision, and stick to it whether we would or 
not. Often had we reason to commend its sagacity in a 
few kind words, and by gently patting its neck, the latter 
being the language which it could not fail to understand. 
We laid aside our white umbrella when riding up Beth- 
horon, and this exposure to the burning sun, after the chill 
of the previous night completed the mischief already begun. 
Had we known the trustworthiness of the Arab horse, 
in getting over difficult ground, we might have held an 
umbrella in each hand and gone up in safety. Our confi- 
dence now is such that we believe our horse, which was 
none of the best, but certainly an improvement on the 
Gaza one, would have carried us, even had we been blind- 
fold, to the top of the pass. 

This was one of our most memorable rides in Palestine, 
not merely on account of the wild and rugged grandeur 
of the scenery, and the polished surface of the narrow 
channel stones, but chiefly because that pass overlooks the 



A LILY AMONG THOENS." 



197 



valley of Ajalon, the scene of one of earth's greatest battles, 
and of one of the most astounding miracles, when Joshua, 
leading the hosts of Israel to victory, scaled these heights, 
rolled down the resistless tide of battle through that plain, 
and routed the exhausted forces of the five kings. It was 
the triumph of truth, righteousness, and freedom, over 
error, idolatry, and oppression. 

At noon we reached the little village at the top. The 
sheikh's house occupies a most commanding position on 
the highest point of the hill. When we entered this hovel, 
for it was nothing better, the light being admitted only by 
the door, the sheikh, by a fine stroke of policy, removed 
the ladder, or some other means of ascent, and placing his 
knee for a step beckoned us to mount, while another who 
stood above lent us a helping hand to the roof. The view 
from this elevation is truly grand, and teeming at every 
point with historical associations of great interest. It was 
in vain that we attempted to steal a few moments quiet. A 
motley crowd had collected around the base of the house, 
and a host of hands were stretched upwards for baksheesh. 
The owners of these had a look very far from prepossess- 
ing. Out of this villainous-looking group there rises at 
this moment the sweet face of a little girl, probably of 
some eight or nine years of age; she was so utterly unlike 
all the rest of her juvenile companions, or indeed any one 
in the crowd, that we pointed her out to our friends as a 
"lily among thorns." She carried her dowry upon her 
head in the form of a circlet, about an inch broad, com- 
posed of silver coins, the one overlapping the other like 
the scales of a fish. She, too, held out her tiny hand with 
a sweet smile and a winning grace, that won all our hearts, 
and drew from us all the small coins which we had, for she 
made us think of some dear little ones at home. She was 



198 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



timid as a startled fawn, and the moment she received a 
coin she ran off with it to her mother. To this day we 
think of her as a "lily among thorns/' and often wonder 
what must be her fate in such a place. No contrast could be 
greater than that child and the brigand appearance of the 
group, among which she seemed to be an especial favourite. 

So far as begging was concerned we had fallen among a 
nest of hornets. The whole village turned out, men and 
women, young and old, and when they could get nothing 
more we have an impression they followed us with some- 
thing very different from a blessing. The wild flower we 
saw no more, but if good wishes can make her happy her 
future will be a bright one, even in the mountain fastness 
of Beth-horon. 

On descending the hill on the other side leading down 
to El- Jib, or Gibeon, we were much struck with the cir- 
cular and amphitheatre form of the little hills shooting up 
around us, from the narrow and desolate-looking valleys, 
with natural ledges rising tier above tier, like the seats in 
a gallery, from base to summit, and covered here and there 
with small green patches of corn. This is a remarkable 
feature of the scenery which cannot fail to strike any 
traveller. Low walls or dykes formed by loose stones 
have been raised at one time on these natural ledges of 
rocks, in order to keep the soil together, and to prevent 
its being washed away by the winter rains. These 
dykes, in many places are broken down, and the soil 
carried off into the valley below. All the fine old 
trees that clothed the sides of these hills have been cut 
down, leaving the limestone rock white and bare, giving 
the scene, save where it is dotted with olives or patches 
of green, a ghastly and desolate appearance. The first 
things that will probably strike a stranger in the Beth-horon 



" THE LITTLE HILLS. 



199 



and Gibeon districts are the natural terraces on the bare 
hill sides, and then the oppressive sense of desolation 
which will lead him again and again to ask, " Can this be 
the land which was described as nowino; with milk and 
hone}'?'" His first impression will, in all likelihood, be 
that of disappointment. He will almost be inclined to 
think that there must be something of oriental exaggera- 
tion in the ancient descriptions which are given of this 
land; but this feeling will soon correct itself, for on look- 
ing around, and becoming better acquainted with the 
country, he will see every now and again on these bare 
ledges of rock, where the dykes have not been broken 
down, and where the soil is preserved, bright spots of 
verdant beauty, where the waving corn rustles in the 
passing breeze ; and he will by and by discover that indus- 
try, a small capital, and a good government, would again 
make this down-trodden land rejoice in the profusion 
of a wondrous fertility ; but these three essentials are at 
present wanting. Place a little soil from the valley below 
on these bare ledges, keep it from being washed down by 
the heavy rains, and these ghastly terraces will, in a few 
years, be clothed with crops which would yield an abun- 
dant return. The beautiful words of sacred writ, describ- 
ing the ancient appearance of the country, might again be 
applied — ''Their pastures shall be in all high places.'" 
"Thy paths drop fatness." "They drop upon the pastures 
of the wilderness; and the little hills rejoice on every 
side." "The pastures are clothed with flocks ; the valleys 
also are covered over with com; they shout for joy, they 
also sing." On coming down towards Gibeon, with the 
little rounded, terraced hills about us on every side, some 
of them made glad with the olive, the vine, and the little 
patches ef corn, we did feel the appropriateness of the 



200 



THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



expression, "the little hills/' for such they really are, and 
how beautiful they must have been when the words were 
literally true, " the little hills rejoice on every side." 

We lingered so long among these "little hills" that 
we had scarcely time to reach the top of Neby Samwil 
before the sun went down. This mountain associated, 
as our readers will observe, with the name of the prophet, 
Samuel, is about 2,700 feet in height, and from the roof 
of the mosque which crowns the summit, very near the 
whole Palestine of the patriarchs, in its entire length and 
breadth, can be seen. This is supposed to be the Mizpeh of 
Scripture to which this distinguished patriot and prophet, 
who has given his name to the mountain, gathered the 
tribes in seasons of national trial or deliverance, when a 
great religious solemnity was held. This venerable man 
of God very probably had his dwelling either here or at 
Gibeon, at the foot of the mountain; and it is veiy striking 
that to this day his name lingers about this sacred spot. 
It has not been so with some of the most prominent places 
mentioned in the Bible. The names of many localities 
associated with the deeds of illustrious personages have 
been changed, but Neby Samwil is an exception to this. 

When our party reached the foot of the mountain, it 
was so near sunset that for some moments it was dis- 
cussed whether we should ascend at once, or go up 
to-morrow and see the sunrise. Our tents were at hand, 
and never did we feel more inclined to turn in and rest, 
but, notwithstanding, our voice was given for immediate 
ascent. It was well that we so concluded, for when the 
morrow came, the fever that hung about us would have 
interdicted any such attempt. Without leaving the 
saddle, we started for the summit, and having more confi- 
dence in our horse after the trying ascent of Beth-horon, 



FIRST GLIMPSE OF JERUSALEM. 



201 



we let him take his own way, and again had occasion to 
admire his sagacity in going up, but more especially in 
coming down. When we reached the top, the sun was 
sinking in the glowing waters of the great sea that 
stretched away to the west, beyond the plain of Philistia 
and Sharon. The golden radiance of the setting sun 
threw a wondrous glory over the unbroken, monotonous 
chain of the mountains of Moab to the east, and on olive 
trees, little villages, and gardens that dotted the land- 
scape here and there. 
" Where is Jerusalem ? " 

" Down there to the right." We did not think it was 
so near, and straining our eyes to catch the first glimpse, 
we had looked at more distant objects in another direction. 
We turned in silence, and got our first ]ook of the old 
grey walls and the domed roofs of some of the houses. It 
was a moment never to be forgotten. The view from 
that point is not striking — but it was Jerusalem ! Some 
have felt disappointed with this view; such was not our 
feeling, and we were not there many moments till we 
could fully sympathise with the feelings of the ancient 
Jew expressed in the words, " If I forget thee, Jeru- 
salem, let my right hand forget her cunning ! " Our eyes 
caught sight of a portion of the city just as the retreating 
radiance of the setting sun gave place to the sombre 
shadows of the brief gloaming in the East. It was a 
fitting time for the first glimpse of the city. We had long- 
heard of her as sitting solitary and widowed, and the 
appropriate drapery of coming night now closed in the 
scene, and was in harmony with the somewhat sad and 
solemn cast of our own thoughts. Not a word was 
spoken for a time. Every one went apart by himself: 
the soul needed to be alone in such a place. Words 



202 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



were irksome, silence sweet and welcome, in the rush of 
memories that came upon us on that hill-top. No one 
can ever forget his first sight of Jerusalem, no matter 
from whatever point he sees it, there is such a history 
connected with the sacred enclosure within these walls. 
When standing on the summit of Neby Samwil, the 
thought which was uppermost in our mind, and which 
gave a colouring to all others, was this — down there the 
Saviour of the world taught, healed, suffered, and died on 
the accursed tree ! His wondrous love seemed to assume 
a more vivid and striking reality, when we looked down 
upon the city where He gave His life a ransom for the 
sins of the world. It is surely no weakness to confess 
that when the silence produced by the first view of 
Jerusalem was broken, some of us felt it difficult to speak. 
There was an unusual tightness and huskiness about the 
throat, not from the chill of the evening air, but from 
emotion, which some strove in vain to conceal — not a 
little moisture about some eyes, and very mingled feel- 
ings in some hearts, as if a funeral and a wedding-day 
were suddenly rolled into one — sorrow and joy strangely 
blended together. Night was fast closing in, ere one of 
us could leave the roof of the mosque. As we took a 
parting glance at the mountains lying around the city, 
we thought of the words, "As the mountains are round 
about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about his people 
from henceforth even for ever " (Psalm cxxv. 2). 

Next morning we climbed over the terraces of the lime- 
stone rock, and reached the plateau on which the village 
of El Jib, the Gibeon of Scripture is situated. It occupies 
a very commanding position in the heart of a rich but 
neglected country. These successive layers of limestone 
which rise one above another to the top of the hill gave 



GIBEON. 



203 



the place a very peculiar appearance. They resemble a 
long flight of steps leading to some great temple. One 
can scarcely conceive of a more fitting place for an altar 
than this broad platform, with its natural steps all round. 
This was the great "high place"' of Solomon, of whom we 
read, "And the King went to Gibeon to sacrifice there; for 
that was the great high place : a thousand burnt offerings 
did Solomon offer upon that altar." (1 Kings iii. 4.) 

As you sit on one of these steps the curtain rises on the 
past, and one of the greatest religious solemnities of any 
time, with all its o-oro-eous details of altar offerino-s, music, 
king, princes, priests, and people, is enacted before you. 
The people are crowding up the steps to the altar of God, 
or gazing at the ascending smoke of the sacrifice from the 
plain below. It was here that the words were addressed 
to Solomon from the excellent glory, " Ask what I shall 
give thee," and in reply he presented his memorable 
prayer for wisdom. It was with deep interest we read 
here the ninth chapter of the book of Joshua, and in 
fancy saw the wily Gibeonites busy making their prepara- 
tions for deceiving J oshua and his people, by a stratagem 
which betrayed duplicity and cowardice, and which, after 
all, has a dash of the ludicrous in it, as you look at these 
deputies of Gibeon going in clouted shoes, in clothes very 
much the worse for wear, with rent sacks, and bottle?, 
and all looking travel- worn and weary, in order to cheat 
the leader of Israel into the belief that they have come 
from a far country. Such is the statement these deputies 
made, and what arrant knaves they must have been when 
they palmed themselves off on the unsuspecting warriors 
of Israel. (Joshua fx. 12-13) — "This our bread we took 
hot for our provision out of our houses on the day we 
came forth to go unto you ; but now, behold, it is dry, 



204 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



and it is mouldy: and these bottles of wine, which we 
filled, were new; and, behold, they be rent: and these 
our garments and our shoes are become old by reason of 
the very long journey." Their trick succeeds, and they 
return to receive the congratulations of their friends, and 
to talk over their success with mutual glee. It was a 
crooked policy which saved their lives, but which made 
them hewers of wood and drawers of water ever afterwards. 

On passing through the village we observed that most 
of the houses were built of stone taken from former build- 
ings. These stones and the arched doorways gave a very 
ancient appearance to the village. The very look of the 
stones links you to a remote antiquity. There is an old 
massive ruin with arched vaults of solid masonry and fine 
workmanship. This probably was the ancient citadel. 
These are all the remains that represent the former great- 
ness of Gibeon, which in the days of Joshua was spoken of 
as " a great city, as one of the royal cities." 

The spot where that terrible tragedy was enacted, an 
account of which is given in 2 Samuel xi., and which 
reminds us of some of the bloody deeds in the records of 
the Highland Clans, is pointed out at a fountain, where 
there is still a large supply of water. This is referred to 
in Scripture as the "Pool of Gibeon," where the two 
warrior chiefs, Abner and J oab, representing different in- 
terests, set their men to play, and the sport ended in a 
" very sore battle." Altogether Gideon, from its high and 
central position, and its historical associations, is one of 
the most remarkable places in the land. 

A short ride, full of many stirring recollections, brought 
us at last down to a valley, dotted over with olive trees 
and covered with stones, not far from the old grey walls 
of the city. As we approached, we were very much struck 



DAUGHTERS OF ZION. 



205 



on seeing women and children seated here and there on 
the brown earth under the shadow of the olives. It 
was a Jewish festival, and the daughters of Zion had 
turned out in holiday attire. The ground was literally- 
sown with stones, so that walking was very difficult, and 
the heat was great. Many family parties, the mothers and 
children at least, passed us on donkeys to the various 
groups under the olives, who were enjoying themselves 
in pic-nic fashion. No one could fail to mark at once 
the Jewish type of countenance. There was a thoughtful, 
matronly air about the women, much more of that quiet 
Quakeress look than we expected to find. They ambled 
deftly along, and their dresses, though not gay, gave a 
cheery holiday appearance to the scene. This was es- 
pecially the case with the young people. But for this 
festival turn out, the approach to the city would have 
been oppressively sad. Even as it was, sorrow seemed 
to cling to the skirts of all. There was no mirth, no 
laughter, no merry-making — how could these be seen with 
the ruins so near? It would have been like decking a 
corpse with a garland. The daughters of Zion were sitting 
amid the desolation of their country. Many of them had 
beautiful faces, reminding one of Rebekah and Rachel, and 
pictures of the Madonna, but, with few exceptions, there 
was a tinge of sadness in every countenance. Here and 
there you might see a happy looking little girl — a perfect 
brunette — very cleverly managing her donkey, and such a 
face presents a wonderful contrast to the looks of the men 
who were strolling about singly or in pairs by themselves, 
but never mingling with the groups of women and chil- 
dren. Amongst the men there was no exception, all were 
sad, spiritless, and dejected. Never have we seen any- 
where such faces. They were not merely <c sicklied o'er with 



206 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



the pale cast of thought," but they had a most unhealthy 
and sallow hue, betokening a vitiated atmosphere in 
their dwellings, and a very meagre and unwholesome diet. 
There was something more than this burnt into these faces ; 
it was not so much the marks of poverty and privation 
that struck us, as the stony fixed look of a " rooted sorrow." 
We never expect to meet with such features anywhere, 
unless we happen to return to that place. Here and 
there you might see the sharp, keen eye, the hard, stern, 
expression, the compressed hps, the set teeth of a Shylock 
type of countenance, still bent on dollars, but nearly 
all seemed to have resigned themselves to poverty and 
passive sorrow. The young men were extremely pale 
and thin, and, for their age, tall. Their hair was done 
up into stringy twists of ringlets, which hung down their 
cheeks, and gave them a very sickly and effeminate look. 
We have seen many kinds of head-gear, of all shapes and 
sizes, from the long shaggy funnel of the Persian, to the 
bald and naked fez of the Turk, but nothing of the kind 
has ever struck us so much as the low-crowned, broad- 
brimmed beaver worn by the Jew in the city of his 
fathers. Old men sauntered about, some with books in 
the Hebrew language, from which they read occasionally ; 
some sat apart, in melancholy musing, under the shade of 
the olives ; some aged waifs kept muttering to themselves, 
and only cast a furtive glance at us as we passed, remind- 
ing us of old men who had drifted into a lunatic asylum, 
and whom we have seen chattering to themselves as they 
walked about the grounds. These wandering Jews re- 
present their race, and that race as scattered through the 
whole earth. They had come from all lands, travel- worn 
and weary — through incredible hardships of poverty, 
want, insult, and injury, to die in the holy city. All 



MARKS OF THE CURSE. 



207 



bore the marks of a peculiar people, and we could not 
divest ourselves of the thought that the shadow of a 
terrible curse still hung over them. It is a painful sight ; 
quite unique in the history of the world — a nationality, 
yet not a nation in the sense of being gathered into one — 
a people without a home, scattered over every kingdom, 
but having no kingdom of their own — a race without a 
country, yet clinging to the land of their fathers as no 
people ever did, and living inspired with the hope that 
a bright time is coming, when that land shall yet be 
their own, in a glory which it never saw even in its best 
and palmiest days. As group after group passed us, we 
thought of the bush burning yet not consumed. Here is 
a people whom the world has not been able to shake off. 
They have survived all the persecutions of successive 
ages — persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not 
destroyed, and, in one sense, "always bearing about in 
the body the dying of the Lord Jesus for the curse 
invoked in their father's words, uttered in the very city 
we are now approaching, has not yet been wrung out — 
" His blood be on us and our children ! " 

" Tribes of the wandering foot, and weary breast, 
How shall ye flee away and be at rest? 
The wild dove hath her nest, the fox his cave, 
Mankind their country — Israel but the grave ! " 

Full of such thoughts, we rode up along a part of the 
city wall partly formed from the native rock. A high wall, 
varying from forty to eighty feet, goes round the entire 
plateau, two miles and a half in circumference. The present 
wall dates no farther back than about the middle of the 
sixteenth century, but it has a grey, time-worn, venerable 
appearance, having been built with stones from a former 
wall, or from other ruins connected with the city. On 



208 



THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



the top there is a narrow path, and a parapet, so that, 
on getting to this elevated position, you may still " walk 
about Zion, and go round," but the "high towers thereof" 
are no more. It was pleasing, however, to find it in a 
good state of repair. Several times has it been levelled 
to the ground, and no city in the world has been so fre- 
quently and terribly besieged. On reaching an open space 
nearly opposite the J affa gate, we found our tents pitched. 
Dear as the old city was to us, something lay still nearer 
our heart, and the first thing we did was to ascertain if 
there were any letters from home lying at the British 
Consulate. In the desert we had been shut out for seve- 
ral weeks from all communication with the outer world. 

It was with very mingled feelings that we rode in at 
the Jaffa gate, and passed the Turkish guards. It was an 
exciting moment. A friend reminded us when we were 
a few yards from the gate, that we had not doffed our 
somewhat nondescript head-gear, on getting within the 
precincts of the city ; but if our hat was not taken off in 
token of reverence, our heart was lifted up in devout 
thanksgiving. The truth is, we were quite taken aback 
by the villainous-looking faces that met us at the gate, 
and by a poor fellow who thrust the stump of an ampu- 
tated limb towards us, and kept shouting in a most sten- 
torian voice for baksheesh, laying prodigious emphasis on 
the last syllable. Our horse shied at the sight and the 
shout, and we had just enough to do to keep our seat; 
and anyone who knows what the streets of Jerusalem 
are, especially the one leading down from the Jaffa gate, 
will not be surprised at this. That shout will linger 
with us as long as we can recall any earthly sound. Our 
first impressions of the city were such that our feelings 
received a sad shock. It was near sunset, and a group of 



FIKST NIGHT IN JERUSALEM. 



209 



very scoundrel-looking "loafers" sat lounging about the 
gate. It seemed to be all the rascaldom of the Jewish 
and the Moslem world, and something more than that, 
thrust into one corner ; and when our friend reminded us 
that we had not doffed our hat, we were muttering to our- 
selves, " It is the Holy City no more ! " As we rode down 
that steep and narrow street, with skull-shaped stones, on 
which our horse was constantly slipping, we passed the 
tower of David. What a history was in the very name ! 
The bazaars and shops were all shut, and the people 
sitting at their doors, dozing here and there over their 
coffee and their pipes. The transition from David's tower 
to the Psalms of Israel's sweet singer was very easy and 
natural ; and when we dismounted at the narrow door of 
the Damascus hotel, we seized the hand of a friend and 
repeated these lines — 

" Jerusalem, within thy gates 
Our feet shall standing be." 

It was necessary that we should exchange for a little 
our canvas home for apartments in " the Damascus," and 
when we entered that night our little vaulted chamber, 
with a hook driven into the centre of the roof, on which 
to suspend a lamp, it was not easy to fall asleep on the 
rushing tide of thought which overflowed the soul. We 
lay down exhausted with Syrian fever, and for several 
days saw nothing but the vaulted roof and the hook, 
on which, when wakening up one morning, we affirmed 
again and again, most obstinately, that Judas Iscariot 
hanged himself ! The fever was at its height, but we were 
in Jerusalem, and we had much reason to be thankful. 

So much has been written about this old capital, and 
there are so many controverted points to be settled, that 

o 



210 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



we shall attempt nothing more than simply describe what 
we saw during our stay in the city. Our object was not 
to make measurements, start theories, indulge in specula- 
tions, discuss this site and the other; all this we left to 
the Exploration Committee, who have a great work to 
do in Palestine. Our object was to receive impressions, 
and these we will try to convey as simply and as briefly 
as we can. 



CHAPTER XL 



holy sepulchre — sacred fire at easter — view from the mount 
of olives — church of the ascension — bethany — spot where 
jesus wept — gethsemane — jerusalem at night — bishop gobat 

— haram es scheriff — mosque of omar — wonderful rock 

mosque of aksa — substructures — top of the city wall — 
captain Wilson's arch — view from the governor's house — 

convent of the cross — valley of hinnom — pool of siloam 

palace of caiaphas — sabbath in jerusalem — loneliness of 
jesus — via dolorosa— festival of the maccabees — excavations 

UNDER THE CITY — WAILING PLACE. 




HERE was no place we visited more frequently 
than the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and at 
the end of every visit we came away with an 
oppressive sense of confusion, as if we had 



been hurriedly wandering through some immense museum 
and had been lost and bewildered in the variety of objects 
and the number of apartments. It is a large group of 
buildings dating as far back as the days of Constantine, so 
that even independent of the tradition which connects it 
with our Lord it is a place of great historical interest. Its 
traditional connection, however, with the three great 
events, the crucifixion, burial, and resurrection of our Lord, 
has made it the source of attraction to all Christendom. 
Seated on the paved court in front of this large building 
were sellers of crucifixes, rosaries, and all kinds of relics, 
trinkets, and ornaments designed to be mementoes of the 



212 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



place. On entering the building itself, we were rather 
surpised to find a number of Turkish guards squatted on 
a carpet-covered bench, or divan, to the left, and quietly 
enjoying their coffee and nargilehs. We were scarcely 
prepared for this in a Christian temple, even although 
we had observed, before entering, that a minaret stood at 
each end of the building, and though the crimson flag of 
Turkey, bearing the richly embroidered crescent, was gaily 
floating from the grim old citadel, the Tower of David, on 
the heights of Zion. That flag floating there was humilia- 
tion enough, but the presence of a Turkish guard at the 
entrance of the Holy Sepulchre was a still lower depth, if 
not for the Jew, at least for the rival sects of Christians in 
the East. This guard was stationed there to keep them 
in order when their mutual jealousy happened to break out 
in deeds of violence, which is not seldom the case. The 
guard after all, did not seem to have much to do, judging, 
at least, from their corpulent appearance. J ealousy comes 
by fits, and these perhaps for the season were over. A tall, 
stout Moslem who, we were told, was the key-keeper, was 
the only one who made himself officious, and we would, 
certainly, be at no loss to recognise him were we ever re- 
visiting the city. Representing the power of the Sultan in 
the East he keeps the Church of the Holy Sepulchre under 
lock and key. 

Leaving the Turkish guard smoking and chatting on 
the divan, the first object of interest that is pointed out is 
a marble slab on the floor. This is the stone of unction. 
According to tradition, the body of our Lord when taken 
down from the cross was laid on the stone here and 
anointed for burial ; the real portion of the rock is sup- 
posed to lie below this piece of marble, and is placed 
under it for the sake of protection, lest the pilgrims 



THE HOLY SEPULCHRE. 



213 



should carry it off piecemeal. This part of the building is 
common to all sects, it is under the special guardianship 
of no one more than another, so that there is no cause 
for strife or jealousy about this spot. All the pilgrims 
approached this slab with the greatest eagerness, and 
prostrating themselves before it, kissed it with much 
apparent devotion. 

A little to the left, a small circular spot on the floor is 
enclosed by a railing, not unlike a large cage. This 
marks the place where the Virgin Mary is said to have 
stood, some say when our Saviour was taken down from 
the cross, others when his body was laid out for burial. 
This is under the special protection of the Armenian 
Church, and, on one occasion, when we lingered about the 
spot, some three or four priests came forward to the rail- 
ing carrying their sacred vestments, in which they began 
to array themselves. They manifested such a spirit of 
levity, laughing and chatting one to the other, and as we 
had also the impression that our presence was not agree- 
able to them, we did not wait to see the performance. 

But the great object of interest is the Holy Sepulchre 
itself, which occupies the centre of a large circular space 
formed by the Rotunda, which is the main feature in this 
group of buildings. It is about seventy feet in diameter, 
and has a broad gallery supported by eighteen massive 
piers. This part of the buildings was formerly supported 
by pillars of white marble, but in the terrible fire of 1808 
these were completely destroyed. The domed roof of this 
Rotunda is in a miserable state of dilapidation; it is so rent 
in various places that the blue sky is seen gleaming through, 
and numerous pigeons are continually flying in and out. 
This may be an advantage in the dry months of summer, 
but the heavy rains must make sad havoc on a roof so 



214 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



rent and battered, and which, if not repaired, must by 
and by fall in. Other parts of the Rotunda are not in a 
much better condition. There are screens, tawdry deco- 
rations, and pieces of patchwork intended to conceal the 
marks of decay, but these only deepen the impression of 
shabbiness and neglect. The reason is, the Rotunda is free 
to all the sects, it is the special property of none, and such 
is their mutual jealousy, that nothing like a common effort 
can be made to repair this part of the buildings. Right 
under the centre of the dome, is a small chapel, which, 
according to the belief of millions, contains the body of 
our Lord. The chapel, if indeed it can be thus designated, 
is twenty feet long by eighteen broad; it has been charac- 
terised as a " shapeless edifice of brown marble ;" probably 
on examination, this brown marble would turn out to be 
plain white and yellow stone. It is surmounted by a 
small cupola like a crown, a blue screen richly embroidered 
with stars is thrown across the roof; the necessity for this 
will at once be obvious to our readers, after the reference 
which has been made to the dilapidated condition of the 
dome, open in many places to the rain and the fowls. 

Notwithstanding all our convictions that this was not 
" the place where the Lord lay " (a feeling that was deep- 
ened by every succeeding visit), we must confess that it 
was with a certain degree of awe and reverence that we 
approached this spot, which has been regarded with so 
much veneration for so many ages, and by such multitudes 
throughout Christendom. In front of the little chapel, 
there is a marble platform ascended by a few steps. 
A seat and a parapet run along each side of this open 
space. Here pilgrims leave their shoes before proceeding 
farther, and wait their turn to be admitted into the 
innermost shrine, which cannot hold more than three or 



THE HOLY SEPULCHRE. 



215 



four at a time. Passing from the platform, you enter 
the first apartment, called the "Chapel of the Angel," 
because it was here, according to tradition, that the 
angel sat on the stone, and announced to the astonished 
disciples that the Lord was "risen indeed." The frag- 
ment of this stone, about eighteen inches square, stands 
on a pedestal in the middle of the floor. It is affirmed, 
however, that the real stone was stolen by the Armenians, 
and is now to be seen in the building under their charge 
— the palace of Caiaphas, beyond the Zion gate. The 
narrow door, with a curtain hanging over it, admits you 
to a small recess. This screen is drawn aside, and you 
enter, dazzled at first by the glare of nearly fifty gold 
and silver lamps, suspended over what is said to be 
the tomb of Jesus. The place is filled with incense, 
and more than brilliant with the many lights which are 
kept constantly burning. As for the roof, it is hard to 
say what it is, it was so blackened with smoke. Even 
here, where imagination has done so much already, there 
is a great deal left to be supplied. One would require at 
least to convey here, in fancy, a large portion of natural . 
rock, of which there is nothing to be seen either above or 
below, or on the sides of the inner shrine. What is said 
to be the tomb occupies the whole of the right side, and 
is raised about three feet above the floor. You cannot 
now literally obey the command given to the angels, 
" Come, see the place where the Lord lay," for a marble 
slab, rent in the centre, and worn at the edge by the fre- 
quent kissing of the pilgrims, covers this so-called sepul- 
chre, which now resembles an altar more than a tomb, 
and really serves the purpose of the former. There is a 
great profusion of tasteless, tawdry ornaments about it: 
vases with artificial flowers, relics, pictures, and a repre- 



216 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



sentation of the resurrection in has relief. On the suppo- 
sition that this is actually the place where there was a 
garden, " and in the garden a new sepulchre, wherein was 
never man yet laid," no one would be at a greater loss 
to recognise his new tomb than Joseph himself, could he 
possibly now see it in the glare and glitter of lamps, 
lights, and gaudy ornaments, which betoken a lavish ex- 
penditure, but an utter want of taste. Six or seven times 
did we visit this tomb, and we always found, with the 
exception of our last visit, the same Greek priest stand- 
ing in the corner. He must have considered us quite a 
devotee, and he never failed to sprinkle us with rose 
water. No words were ever exchanged between us, but 
he began to give us a quiet friendly look of recognition. 

How many different parts of the world that man must 
have seen represented in the foot-sore and travel-worn 
pilgrims, who have knelt and kissed the edge of that mar- 
ble slab in that little apartment, not so large as a very 
small bedroom, for the space in front of the tomb is only 
three feet in width, and six feet in length. There is no 
other spot in this world where so many countries, lan- 
guages, and climes have been represented ; and could we 
believe that it is really the tomb of our Lord, there would 
be no spot on earth that would have greater claims to be 
visited and honoured by our race. Could the pilgrims 
from all quarters of the world, and from the days of Con- 
stantine, who have passed through that narrow door, be 
formed into one long line, what a sight it would present ! 
What a variety of characters, social position, colours, lan- 
guages, and climes would be there — from the mightiest 
prince to the humblest peasant, from the fair Circassian to 
the jet black Indian, from the snows of Siberia to the 
sunny south, from the tropics to the pole ! 



THE HOLY SEPULCHRE. 



217 



On the last visit we paid to the sepulchre we were dis- 
appointed in not finding the now familiar face of the 
Greek priest in the corner. He was on this occasion suc- 
ceeded by a priest belonging to the Latin church. The 
reason for this temporary change was soon explained. 
Several pilgrims in connection with that church were 
about to return home, and had sundry articles which 
they wished to be blessed at the sepulchre before leav- 
ing the city. A woman, after kneeling for some time, 
kissing very fervently the marble slab, presented two 
bundles to the priest, which he placed upon the top of 
it, and sprinkled with holy water, muttering over them 
some words he read from a book. A succession of pil- 
grims followed in turn, and had their various articles, 
which they would carry with them, blessed in the same 
way. A young man sat on the platform outside, with 
two large packing-boxes hooped with iron bands. Each 
of them was a good weight for a stout porter, and they 
were too bulky to be carried inside. When all the other 
articles had been blessed, the priest came out with holy 
water and a book, from which he read some brief formula 
of prayer, and sprinkled the boxes. We were much im- 
pressed by the earnest devotion manifested by many of 
the pilgrims. In the above cases we had seen the super- 
stitious side of the picture, and probably there is about 
as much of the one as there is of the other. The Latin 
priest having finished his work for the time, and dis- 
missed the members of his communion with his blessing, 
another priest, belonging to the Greek church, took his 
place in the comer, and went through the same process 
with a number of female pilgrims from Russia. This was 
really an affecting sight. It was the farewell of the poor 
women to the sacred spot, to visit which they had tra- 



218 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



veiled so far, and suffered such privations. They bathed 
the cold marble with their hot tears, and kissed it again 
and again before they could withdraw, moving backwards 
on their hands and knees, till the door-screen fell and shut 
out for ever from their sight the tomb of their Lord, for 
such they regarded it to be in their heart of hearts. 

On retiring from the first small apartment, called the 
Chapel of the Angel, we observed two holes, one on each 
side of the wall, and it at once occurred to us that it was 
through these apertures that the holy fire is communicated 
to the pilgrims by the Greek patriarch at the celebration 
of Easter. On inquiry, we found that it was so. There 
is not, in connection with any form of faith in modern 
times, a greater delusion, a more flagrant imposture, than 
this so-called miracle of the holy fire. The votaries of the 
Greek church believe that it is kindled at the sepulchre 
by the Holy Spirit, who is said to descend at Easter, when 
the whole space of the Rotunda is crammed with pilgrims, 
who for a time give way to frantic fury and excitement, 
more resembling bacchanalian orgies than anything in 
connection with Christian worship, — running, shouting, 
screaming, and piling themselves up in the form of a py- 
ramid on one another's heads. A way is opened through 
the crowd by the Turkish guard, and the " bishop of fire ,; 
is led, or rather dragged, into the Chapel of the Angel, 
and the door closed. The wild excitement and tumult 
become greater than ever. The appearance of the fire 
is delayed, and the multitude, believing that it is the 
presence of the Turkish soldiers that causes the delay, 
rush upon them and drive them from the church. By 
and by the flame appears flashing out of the aperture, 
and the great struggle of the day now takes place for 
the honour of getting the first taper lighted, the belief 



THE SACRED FIRE. 



219 



being, that the pilgrim who succeeds in this, is secure, 
not only of his eternal salvation, but also of special hon- 
ours in heaven. It is like a life or death struggle; in 
not a few cases lives have been lost. 

In 1834, when Ibrahim Pasha was present in the gal- 
lery of the Rotunda to witness the festival of the holy 
fire, a panic took place in the vast crowd, and the name 
of Christianity was disgraced in the presence of this Mo- 
hammedan prince. Although he narrowly escaped with 
his own life, he bravely assisted others, and was shocked 
when, on the evening of that day, he heard that four 
hundred had lost their lives. The Church of the Holy 
Sepulchre presented the ghastly appearance of a battle- 
field. Perhaps the most offensive part of this celebration 
is when the " bishop of fire," as he is called, is borne out 
of the sepulchre in an utterly exhausted and fainting con- 
dition, as if he had been overwhelmed by the presence of 
the divine glory. This is the very climax of a huge im- 
posture, which is a disgrace to the Christian world. The 
more enlightened members of the Greek church would be 
glad to get quit of it. The late Emperor Nicholas was 
desirous to abolish the impious profanation, but the time 
had not yet come — the shock would have been too great 
for the popular belief. The Latin church has discarded it 
as a ridiculous and superstitious ceremony ; but consider- 
ing the spirit of rivalry, there may be a little of " the fox 
and the sour grapes " in this feeling. Before thus charac- 
terizing this celebration, the Latin monks would do well 
to think of the absurdities which their own church still 
sanctions, such as the liquefaction of the blood of St. 
Januarius at Naples. The Armenians take no part in the 
festival of the holy fire, but this is still the great attrac- 
tion to multitudes of pilgrims who flock to Jerusalem. 



220 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



Directly opposite the sepulchre, is the entrance to the 
Greek church. The impression we retain of that build- 
ing, is a lavish display of gilding and glitter, the glare 
of ornamentation — several pictures of saints — gold and 
tinsel — barbaric splendour. The Greek Church has even 
more than the lion's share of the ecclesiastical wealth 
and holy places in the East ; all other sections of the old 
apostolic church seem to be dissenters. The Greek com- 
munion is the hierarchy, and the splendid convent of the 
Russians actually looks like a taking possession of the 
whole land. Even the Latiu Church has just enough to 
do to hold up its diminished head in the presence of its 
great rival, which, from the monopoly it has of the holy 
places, has thus obliged the other sects to multiply the 
number of these, in order to retain any position or in- 
fluence in the eyes of their respective followers. The 
Syrian, Coptic, and Abyssinian Christians have very poor 
and humble-looking chapels at the back of the sepulchre. 
The Armenian Church, embracing many wealthy mer- 
chants, has acquired a more commanding position in the 
Rotunda, and so has the Latin Church ; but notwith- 
standing all its aggressive efforts, it occupies a position 
little better than that of a dissenting chapel, over- 
shadowed by a cathedral that has all the worldly attrac- 
tions which wealth and aristocratic influence can give it. 
Hence the unseemly rivalry that exists between all these 
old sections of the Holy Apostolic Church, as it is called, 
especially between the Latin and the Greek, around what 
they believe to be the sepulchre of their common Lord. 
At first when we saw these chapels, belonging to various 
sects of Eastern Christians, all under one roof, and clus:- 
tering around the tomb of Jesus, we thought it a fine 
idea, representing the unity of His Church — "one Lord, 



THE HOLY SEPULCHRE. 



221 



one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all;" but 
it is not by mutual love that they have been thus brought 
and kept so long together in this sacred spot. More reli- 
gious rivalry and bitterness exists here than in any other 
part of the world, but yet we could not help thinking 
that the very grouping of these chapels around the 
sepulchre, is expressive of an actual unity in the faith, 
and points to a time that is coming, when all Christian 
Churches shall be drawn more closely together by the 
love that enshrines the precious truth of Christ in all 
their hearts, and unites them all around His cross. " He 
o-athereth together the outcasts of Israel." 

Although we saw no vestige of rock whatever in the 
small apartment said to contain the tomb of our Lord, 
there is, nevertheless, a large supply of this material in 
and around the immense pile of buildings; and no similar 
quantity of rock has been so cut and carved, twisted and 
dug into, for the purpose of forming a grand central 
museum, or rather a confused jumble of holy places. We 
were at last brought face to face with the native rock in 
the grotto, which is said to contain the tombs of Joseph, 
of Arimathea, and Nicodemus, and also in that dismal 
vaulted chamber which is shown as the prison of our 
Lord. In the chapel, too, which is known by the name 
of the " Invention of the Cross," from the tradition that, 
when the Empress Helena came to Jerusalem, and caused 
a strict search to be made for the cross on which our 
Lord suffered, it was found along with two others in the 
vault which is now the object of so much veneration to 
the pilgrims. There is also native rock in the Chapel of 
the Elevation of the Cross at Calvary, which is reached by 
a flight of about twenty steps. At the upper end stands 
an altar, and under it a marble slab with three holes 



222 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



indicating the places where the three crosses were fixed. 
The spot where the cross of Jesus stood is marked by a 
glory of silver gilt. Near this is another opening in the 
marble to show the rent that was made in the rock below 
by the earthquake. In the vault under this apartment the 
fissure in the rock can be seen extending from the ceiling 
to the floor. It has been caused, doubtless, by some con- 
vulsion of nature. This chapel of Calvary belongs to the 
Greeks, but they have not been allowed quietly to enjoy 
the honour, for the Latins have also their Chapel of the 
Crucifixion ; and if they cannot, in this part of their pro- 
perty, show you the place where the cross stood, they at 
least claim the spot where He was nailed to the accursed 
tree. In their church, which is very much inferior in 
size and decoration to that of the Greeks, they point 
to a hole in the wall at the back of which stands a por- 
tion of the pillar at which our blessed Lord was scourged. 
This is not visible, but a monk thrusts a stick into this 
hole, and strikes with the end of it the Pillar of Flagella- 
tion, as it is called. 

But this is endless. In short, you must conceive of 
holy places in the air above and around you, for the rock 
is said to have been cut away in some parts, so that the 
real spot now exists in the air ! You have sacred spots 
behind marble slabs, and walls, and pillars, in vaults and 
corners, in nooks, holes and fissures, upstairs and down- 
stairs, in dripping grottoes and cellars ; and you get con- 
fused, bewildered, and even shocked at this pitiful jumble 
of superstition, devotion, and fraud. It looks as if all the 
holy places in connection with the Christian faith had been 
somehow or other thrown together and shaken out on this 
half-acre of ground. In this small space it is said there 
are seventy stations, more or less important, to which 



VIA DOLOROSA. 



223 



pilgrims can be led, such as the block of black marble 
that indicates the centre of the world, and the spot where 
the head of Adam was found — the altar of Melchisedec — 
the chapel of St. John — the spot where Christ appeared to 
Mary Magdalene — the altar of the penitent thief — the 
chapel for the division of the garments — the sweating 
pillar. But enough; we forbear, lest in the very enu- 
meration we should be thought to be dealing lightly, not 
merely with these pilgrim stations, but with the truth 
itself, of which to say the least, the most of them are a 
caricature. On leaving the church, our guide led us 
through various ruined hospitals in the neighbourhood, 
pausing at a tree to which strings, rags, bits of ribbon, 
and cloth, were attached, presenting a strange medley 
amid a few green leaves. He gravely assured us that this 
tree marked the spot where the ram was caught in the 
thicket, when Abraham was about to offer up his son, 
Isaac. Our readers will not be surprised, when we asked 
him to take us at once to the Mount of Olives, that we 
might breathe the fresh air, and see, at least, the real soil 
of the country, and the grand old external features of 
nature that do not change. 

On getting out of the tangled mass of buildings, we 
turned into the Via Dolorosa (the street of Sorrow), up 
which our Lord is said to have borne His cross when He 
was led out to be crucified. The street is narrow, dirty, 
crooked, and in some places dark, being arched like a 
tunnel. This may have been the route that was taken 
on the morning of the crucifixion. You cannot hear the 
name of the street without emotion ; and as you walk 
along it, the various ir cidents in that mournful procession 
rise vividly before you. Here again these devout feelings 
receive a shock, when no fewer than fourteen pilgrim 



224 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



stations are shown in this one street, marked here and 
there with stones or indentations in the wall, where this 
or the other incident connected with the crucifixion, and 
a great deal more than this, took place — stations at which 
J esus is said to have halted when He bore the cross, and 
the spot where that instrument of torture was laid upon 
Simon the Cyrenian are pointed out. We paused at the 
spot where Veronica stood weeping when her Lord passed 
bearing the cross, and where she took a handkerchief and 
wiped the blood from His temples, torn by the crown of 
thorns. Our guide asked us to look up at an arch 
which crossed the street. A house with two windows 
was built upon it, and that, he affirmed, was the house of 
Dives, at whose gate Lazarus had sat. Strange enough, at 
this very spot, the poor fellow was sitting whose stentorian 
voice had so startled us when first entering the city at 
the Jaffa gate, and who now made the street ring with 
the same appeal. Dozens of hungry dogs were also 
prowling about. We entered a small chapel, called the 
Chapel of the Scourging, where there arc several pictures 
representing this scene of torture — passed what is said 
to have been the pool of Bethesda, and went out at 
Saint Stephen's Gate, called in honour of the first 
martyr. The rock is pointed out in the neighbourhood 
where he was stoned to death. Turning a little to the 
right of this, we were much struck with the immense 
blocks of stone at that part of the city wall not far from 
the Golden Gate. No one at all acquainted with his 
Bible, can look on these without being reminded of the 
words of the disciples addressed to their Master— "See 
what manner of stones and what buildings are here !" We 
crossed the dry bed of the Kedron, rode along the valley 
of Jehoshaphat, examined some of the rock-hewn tombs 



VIEW FKOM MOUNT OF OLIVES. 225 

in this vast cemetery of the Jewish race, where so many 
generations lie buried. It is literally strewn with grave- 
stones. The tomb of Absalom is a conspicuous object, 
and no Jew passes it without some expression of con- 
tempt. We struck into a narrow path, which David the 
king, in his great sorrow, took when he fled from the 
city, on account of the unnatural rebellion of his son. 
The two roads, the upper and the lower, on the Mount 
of Olives, are as old as the history of the country itself. 
They are scarcely worthy of the name of roads ; they are 
mere bridle-paths, and very rough in some places. These 
were roads long before the days of Joshua, and the one 
that the king took when the poltroon Shimei came out 
and cursed him, is probably the only one that ever led 
over the brow of the hill. Bearing a heavier burden of 
sorrow, our Lord frequently struck into the same path, 
but more frequently into the lower one leading to Beth- 
any. The view from the summit of the Mount of Olives, 
taking it all in all, in its physical outlines and in its 
historical associations, is one that cannot be surpassed in 
point of interest to the eye of the Christian pilgrim any- 
where in the world. Standing upon that shoulder of the 
ridge which has received the distinctive name of Scopus, 
and looking towards the city stretching before you, what 
a rushing tide of memories is borne down that valley 
lying between you and the opposite heights of Zion, from 
the days of Melchisedec, priest of Salem, to the times of 
the Messiah, and from that to the age of Moslem pre- 
dominance ! — What mighty events fill up this space in 
history and now rise up before you as you stand on that 
eminence, where Rome gathered her resistless legions to 
lay the doomed city in the "dust ! The scenery in itself 
is strikingly grand, picturesque, and wild away down by 

p 



226 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 

the Dead Sea ; but we refer more to the historical asso- 
ciations of this wonderful view. All history gathers 
around that central spot of mighty interest. There is 
Jerusalem, solitary and widowed, on its throne of rocks, 
— its annals altogether unique, for it is inwoven as no 
place on earth has been with the closing scenes in the 
life of Christ, and with His great sacrifice of love on the 
cross. That view is quite a study, and is in itself quite 
sufficient for one visit to the Mount of Olives. But as 
our time is limited, we ride on to the Church of the 
Ascension, climb to the top of the minaret, and look 
away to the wilderness of Judea, the Valley of the 
Jordan, the mountains of Moab, and the Dead Sea lying 
at their feet like lead, cold and grim. There are number- 
less points of interest all around ; in short, every height, 
and knoll, every ravine, crag, and village has its sacred 
story, its records of patriarchs, prophets, and kings, or its 
fragments of blessed memories in connection with that 
life of wondrous love and beauty. Our eye fell at once 
upon a singular-looking, isolated hill, like a truncated 
cone. This is the celebrated Frank Mountain, a famous 
position in the history of the Crusades, the ancient Beth- 
Hacerem of Scripture, the Acropolis of the country in the 
days of Herod the Great, from which the best view can 
be obtained of that tangled mass of rocks, glens, and caves 
among which David sought shelter when he was hunted 
by Saul, like a partridge upon the mountains. Again we 
looked at the city, and lingered on the view, and again 
we turned our eyes on that tempestuous, billowy sweep 
of desolation stretching away down to the Dead Sea. 
What a history closed in around us from behind and 
before ! and what a commentary on the words — 

' ' Sorrow tracketh wrong, as echo follows song, 
On, on for ever ! " 



VIEW FROM MOUNT OF OLIVES. 



227 



For a long time we lingered over that view, truly most 
wonderful in whatever way you regard it, whether in its 
merely physical aspects, or in connection with historical 
associations. These grand old features of nature, the ever- 
lasting hills on which He looked; these spots on this ridge 
which He hallowed by His presence and prayers ; these 
mountain tracts over which He walked, are, after all, the 
holy places to which we can always turn with reverence 
and confidence. Jerusalem has been trodden down of the 
Gentiles; not one stone has been left upon another that 
has not been overturned. Zion is a ploughed field; the 
modern city has been built on heaps, and all within the 
present walls has been entirely changed; but in these 
deep ravines all round the rocky plateau, and on these 
heights that enclose it, you have great landmarks, which 
remain always the same. It matters little to us as to the 
certainty or uncertainty of the so-called Holy Places that 
are built over with stone and lime, so long as we hear the 
thrilling names of Kedron and the Mount of Olives, so 
long as we look upon these rocks and stones, and heights 
and cliffs, and narrow pathways on which He looked, and 
over which He must have walked, and which are the same 
at this moment as they were in His day, with this excep- 
tion, that the trees are now very much fewer. The main 
features of the landscape are the same as when David lodged 
on this ridge, and took his way down to the wilderness to 
find shelter in some of its rocky strongholds. All these are 
really the Holy Places in this land. It was with a feeling 
akin to disgust, that we looked upon a mark on a stone 
which was pointed out to us in a little mosque in the old 
church of the Ascension, as the last footprint left by our 
Lord when He ascended on high ! But it is strange that 
this footprint should be shewn as a sacred spot in a 



228 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



mosque, and that the followers of the Prophet should look 
upon it with reverence. On asking if the footprint was 
not associated with Mahomet, the reply was given again 
and again, that the impression was left by the foot of our 
Lord ! 

A short ride brought us to Bethany, a small and very 
retired village of some thirty miserable huts. Before we 
were aware, we found ourselves on the roof of one of 
these, such is the very uneven nature of the ground. On 
looking over into the little court below, we observed two 
women; one was nursing a child, the other in the spirit of 
Martha, was busy preparing the evening meal, against 
the return of her husband from the field. The village is 
beautifully situated in the midst of patches of corn and 
olive trees. In the days of our Lord it must have been a 
sweet and quiet retreat from the city, at the close of many 
a sorrowful day. It is so secluded, that even yet although 
not above two miles distant, you feel as if you were two 
hundred away from the crowded haunts of men. Of course, 
the remains of what is said to have been the house of Mary 
and Martha, and their brother Lazarus were pointed out; but 
apart from these altogether, we were quite convinced that 
we might be treading on the very site of that once happy 
homestead, which was highly honoured with the friendship 
of Christ, and frequently hallowed by His presence. Be- 
fore entering Bethany, we were conducted into a cave 
said to be the tomb of Lazarus. Poor as this village now 
is, it was the scene of a mighty display of divine power, 
which will only be surpassed in grandeur and extent when 
they that sleep in the dust of the earth shall hear the 
voice of the Son of Man. and shall come forth. 

On our return to the city, we took the road on which 
our Lord proceeded from Bethany to Jerusalem in triumph. 



SPOT WHERE JESUS WEPT. 



229 



Palms were then abundant on the road side, and the peo- 
ple took the branches and strewed them on the way on 
which He was to pass. The air rang with their shouts of 
j y. The whole scene was vividly before us, as we took 
the same narrow path. Much of it has been cut out of 
the rock, so that there can be no doubt whatever as to 
the identity of this approach to J erusalem from Bethany. 
The city is for a time shut out of view by a long bend 
which the road takes, and by a shoulder of the hill. On 
getting into the angle of this bend, the city bursts upon 
our view. In the days of our Lord, at this point in the 
descent, the object in the city that would meet His eye 
would be the Temple; now it is the Mosque of Omar. 
The spot where Jesus beheld the city, and where He wept 
over it, must he within a very narrow compass, so that of 
all sacred places, this is one that can be most easily iden- 
tified. Whatever uncertainty may exist as to Calvary or 
the sepulchre, here at least is a spot of thrilling interest 
to every Christian heart, regarding which there can be no 
doubt; where Jesus wept tears of divine pity over that 
city which had rejected Him, after He had stood again and 
again in the midst of it, with His heart full of love, and 
His hands full of blessings, till His locks were wet with 
the dews of the night. This is one of earth's most holy 
places. A memorable passage of Scripture serves to iden- 
tify it; and never did we turn with deeper interest to 
any verse of holy writ than when we stood at that part 
of the road, with the city lying spread out before us as on a 
map. New light seemed to stream from the. words: "And 
when He was come nigh, even now at the descent of the 
mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples 
began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all 
tl 3 mighty works that they had seen. . . . And when 



230 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



He was come near, He beheld the city, and wept over it." 
(Luke xix., 37 and 41.) A fitting close for the visits of 
that day was to enter the garden, now called Gethsemane, 
enclosed by a white- washed stone wall, and trimly kept. 
On riding up to it shortly before sunset, we felt disposed 
not to go in. There is something thrilling in the very 
name, and all our scruples were soon overcome. Not- 
withstanding the trim French style in which the enclo- 
sure is kept, we could not but linger about the eight 
old olive trees, scathed, gnarled, and twisted by the 
storms of many ages. We yielded ourselves up to the 
solemn memories which even the mere name of the place 
cannot fail to suggest. If we were not on the very spot 
itself, we could not be very far from it, where His sweat 
was as great drops of blood falling down to the ground. 

Before leaving home, we were frequently told by friends 
that very likely the result of our visit to sacred places in 
the East would be an actual diminution of interest, not 
only in the places themselves, but in the sacred narrative. 
Surely this is one of the most groundless fears. We can 
truly say for ourselves that the very reverse has been the 
case. Fully convinced of the truth before, our convictions 
were deepened at every new memorial place — the very 
external features of the country gave us a new and deeper 
insight into the life of Christ, and made it stand out before 
us with greater reality and power. There were some points 
in His experience that we could now understand better, at 
all events they were pressed more into our thoughts, when 
looking at the very places where He had moved day hy 
day. As we strolled up the Mount of Olives, where He 
had often walked, or stood at the side of the old wells, by 
which He Himself as a weary pilgrim had often sat, — 
as we sailed on the Lake of Galilee, or^ wandered by its 



LONELINESS OF JESUS. 



231 



forsaken shores, — as we moved about Nazareth for a 
few days, and gazed upon the scenes that filled His soul 
with delight, — that beautiful life of true goodness was 
more a present reality. It could not fail to be so as we 
passed through the land with which it had been so closely 
identified, — it grew around us and was not so much a dim 
shadow in the distance. We knew before that the life of 
Christ must have been a lonely one, but our feeling as to 
this was greatly intensified, when we stood at the place 
which is called Gethsemane, and the scene of agony rose 
up before us. There was of necessity a sublime isolation 
in that life. " All forsook him and fled. Of the people 
there was none with Him." None could be with Him. 
His very prayers were uttered in solitude. "Sit ye 
here, while I go and pray yonder." " He went up into a 
mountain apart to pray." 

Another element in that wondrous experience which 
we could now better appreciate, was our Lord's intense 
love of nature, as shown in His quiet walks through the 
corn fields, over the hillsides, by the margin of the lake, 
and, also, in all the beautiful illustrations which He drew 
from birds, flowers, trees, and from every department of 
His own glorious creation. In short, a visit to these 
scenes should be an education to every Christian heart. 

Our tent was pitched on the Mount of Olives, but it 
was deemed advisable to have our sleeping quarters in 
* The Damascus." Fain would we have lingered on that 
ridge by moonlight, but the gates of the city were shut at 
sunset, and we had not the privilege of entering at any 
hour in the night. On reaching St. Stephen's gate, the 
signal gun of sunset was fired; we had just saved our 
distance; a few minutes longer and we would have been 
shut out. The whole city, in a little, was given up to 



232 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



darkness and to dogs. There is not a single stray lamp 
in the whole city, and we have no recollection of ever 
seeing one when ont at night. Lanterns might be seen 
glimmering here and there in the narrow, dirty lanes. In 
short, it would be dangerous to venture into the streets 
at night without a lantern. It would certainly not 
be deemed respectable. There would be danger from 
the dogs, who act as scavengers by day and watchmen 
by night; there would be danger from the Turkish guard, 
who would certainly lay hold of a person without a 
lantern, as an evil-doer bent on some deed of mischief; 
there would be danger to the Frank from some fanatic 
fakir or dervish, who would think he was doing the 
prophet a ? service by secretly stabbing the Christian dog 
in the dark. No respectable person thinks of going out to 
the streets at night unless accompanied by a servant bear- 
ing a lantern. The visitor has no inducement whatever 
to go out of doors after sunset. Night makes Jerusalem 
the darkest, dullest, most melancholy place in the world — 
not a light to be seen in any windows, no attempt what- 
ever at evening entertainments. A. concert or a soiree in 
Jerusalem ! That would, indeed, be something to talk about 
and would be more than a nine day's wonder. The sun 
sets, darkness soon comes down, and wraps all in its sable 
curtain. All go into their dwellings; what they do there 
we had no means of knowing, but the night-life outside is 
pretty equally shared with the cats, the dogs, the lizards, 
and the rats. Hyenas and jackals, on the outside, prowl 
about the very gates. One of our red letter evenings in 
the city was a night that we spent with Bishop Gobat 
and his amiable and accomplished family. Every member 
in that happy circle tried to make our visit truly delight- 
ful, and so it was — the memory of it will long be fragrant. 



A HAPPY HOME. 



233 



The national melodies of Germany were sung with great 
spirit, and it was indeed strange, at least for Scotchmen, to 
hear the music of their native hills wedded to their own 
songs, and sung with so much taste and feeling on Mount 
Zion ! Our finest lyrics that have immortalised the Doon, 
the Ayr, and the Afton, were as familar in that German 
home as they are at our own fireside. One of the 
visitors was asked to conduct family worship, and the pas- 
sages read were most appropriate. These were Psalms 
cxxii.-cxxv., with several passages towards the close of the 
Book of Revelation, describing the beauty and the blessed- 
ness of the New Jerusalem. With what deep emotion we 
all joined together in singing, before parting, the beautiful 
hymn, beginning with the words — 

"Abide with me, fast falls tlie eventide; 

The darkness deepens: Lord, with me abide !" &c. 

One of the young ladies presented her album, with the 
request that we would write something in it, as a memo- 
rial of our happy evening. Most cordially did we comply 
with the request, delighted at having an opportunity 
of leaving a memento of our visit. We now add the 
following lines from our national poet as expressive of 
our earnest good wishes for that happy home circle : — 

"0 Thou dread Power, who reign' st above, 

I know Thou wilt me hear, 
When for this scene of peace and love 

I make my prayer sincere! 
The hoary sire — the mortal stroke, 

Long, long, be pleased to spare, 
To bless his little filial flock, 

And show what good men are. 

* * * * * 

When soon or late they reach that coast, 

O'er life's rough ocean driven, 
May they rejoice, no wanderer lost, 

A family in heaven !" 



234 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



On our way to " The Damascus," the streets were pitch 
dark — not a light anywhere to be seen but that which 
glimmered from our own lantern, and which only served 
to make the darkness more visible. We spent another 
pleasant evening at the house of Dr. Chaplin, the excel- 
lent medical missionary in J erusalem, to whom we were 
greatly indebted. If his eye should chance to fall upon 
these few words, he will regard them as the expression of 
a grateful heart. 

Not much more than ten years ago, any Christian 
would have been instantly put to death who would have 
attempted to enter the sacred enclosure of the Haram es- 
Scheriff, or the Noble Sanctuary where the temple stood, 
and which is now partly occupied by several mosques, 
amongst which the great object of interest is the Mosque 
of Omar. The gates of this sacred spot were guarded, 
not so long ago, by the daggers of black dervishes; and 
since the days of the Crusades, up till a very recent period, 
all unbelievers have been strictly excluded. Several have 
been severely pelted with stones, and otherwise abused, 
for making a rash attempt to enter within its precincts. 
Since the Crimean war, more tolerant views have been 
growing in the East, and about 1857 the Haram was 
opened on the payment of a large baksheesh. An order, 
also, was necessary from the Pasha, and the attendance 
of a cawass or two, as an official protection from the fana- 
tic guardians of the holy places. Before we visited the 
Noble Sanctuary, we had a fine view of it from the roof 
of the governor's house. This enclosure, probably at this 
moment the most remarkable spot in the city, the identity 
of which is not disputed, contains about thirty-six acres, in 
the form of a square, and the moment the traveller sees 
it from the roof of the governor's house, or from any 



THE TEMPLE HILL. 



235 



other point that commands a new, he perceives at once 
that the beautiful dome in the centre of this area is the 
building that gives dignity to the city, even much more 
so than St. Peter's to Koine, St. Sophia to Stamboul, or St. 
Paul's to London. "Whatever disputes have arisen about 
the holy places, no doubt has ever been cast upon the 
Temple Hill, now crowned by a dome which we have never 
seen equalled for grace, any lightness, and beautiful pro- 
portion. Next to Mecca the place it occupies is the most 
sacred spot in the Mohammedan world. The view of it 
from the governor's house (the old castle of Antonia) is 
very stinking. The tall cypresses, and other trees of which 
there are many here and there, and the patches of grass 
and flowers, give it a quiet and secluded appearance in 
keeping with the name it bears — the Sanctuary. Having 
complied with all the necessary arrangements, both as to 
baksheesh, the Consul's letter, and cawasses, we started 
very early one morning to visit this spot so sacred in 
the eyes of Moslem, Christian, and Jew. Our cawasses 
appeared with their swords, and silver-mounted staffs of 
office, and preceded us, with something like state dignity, 
through one narrow lane after another, striking at every 
step the skull-shaped stones, with the lofty air of men 
entrusted with some high commission, after the fashion of 
some self-important •' beadle of the parish." It was with 
very mingled feelings that we passed through one of the 
gates and found ourselves in the open space that must 
have been trodden by Jewish kings and princes, by 
priests, prophets, and apostles : and, above all, by the Lord 
of life and glory Himself. Here and there we trode upon 
the native rock which must have been a part either 
of the approach to the Temple of Solomon, or one of its 
courts. The Mosque' of Omar stands in the centre of the 



236 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



Haram on a large platform of marble, and on reaching 
this we laid aside our shoes and put on the slippers with 
which we had provided ourselves. The sheikh, or chief- 
keeper, a tall, stout man, with an immense turban, and a 
rod of office, directed us into the Dome of the Rock. The 
first thing that struck us on entering was the dimness of 
the light, and for a time we felt as if we could see nothing 
at all distinctly. There are fifty-six windows of the richest 
stained glass, and above these are numerous extracts from 
the Koran, in large Turkish letters, all round the building. 
The dome is supported by four very massive piers, and 
twelve arches resting on pillars. 

Within this outer range there is another series of pillars, 
and every where the eye falls on beautiful arabesques, rich 
tracery and porcelain tiles of bright colours. The impres- 
sion which the whole gives is that of massive strength and 
airy lightness combined. As the morning advanced, the 
rays of the sun streamed through the painted glass, and 
produced an almost magical effect as they fell upon the 
richly coloured tiles ; whilst pier and pillar, floor and roof, 
threw back the many tinted hues. Much as we had read 
about the place, we were greatly taken by surprise at the 
effect produced, by the sun's rays falling on so many 
colours, and giving many parts of the building the ap- 
pearance of a rainbow. We were still more astonished 
when, on looking round, we saw the huge rock itself over 
which this beautiful building has been raised. Our atten- 
tion was now wholly turned to this piece of native rock 
as rough and unpolished as any sea side boulder. From 
north to south it is about sixty feet in length, and nearly 
the same in breadth, and rises about five feet above the 
surface of the marble pavement. This floor is twelve feet 
above the general level of the area, so that this remarkable 



DOME OF THE EOCK. 



237 



piece of native rock projects seventeen feet above the 
ground. It is surmounted by a high wooden screen of 
lattice work, to protect it from any profane touch. Had we 
never heard of this rock, our first impression would have 
been that it was the tomb of some illustrious individual. 
The moment we saw it, we ceased to give much attention 
to any other part of the building. We stood rivetted to the 
spot, convinced that there is a wonderful history connec- 
ted with that mass of unhewn stone, now for ages in the 
keeping of Moslems. A canopy of the richest crimson is 
hung over it. There was no permission given to pass 
within this screen, of lattice work, but we had no difficulty 
whatever in seeing the entire rock. On a part of the sur- 
face there is a slight indentation, and the Moslem believes 
that to be the impression which was left by the Prophet 
when he stepped into Paradise. This and other traditions 
regarding this rock, make it an object of profound vene- 
ration to the followers of the Prophet, who believe that 
it is suspended in the air ! To the Jew and the Christian 
this rock is no less an object of interest. It is indeed 
very remarkable, that it should have been permitted to 
stand so high above the general level of the place, when 
the surrounding plateau has been cut away, and when, in 
other parts, mighty substructures have been raised in 
order to widen the area at the building of the temple. 
The Jewish and the Christian tradition is, that this is 
the rock on which Abraham was prepared to offer up 
his son Isaac — that at a period long subsequent to this, 
it became the property of Araunah the Jebusite, who 
made use of it as a threshing floor; and that David 
the King purchased it for an altar, when the plague 
swept away so many of the people ; and, finally, that 
this famous rock was the altar of burnt offering in 



238 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



the ancient temple. That it has a history, such as no 
other rock in the world possesses, there can be no doubt, 
and this history shall be all the more wonderful, if Mr. 
Ferguson's theory regarding it turn out to be correct, that 
the cave under the rock is the real Sepulchre of our Lord ! 
This cave is reached by a flight of steps, and is capable of 
holding about fifty persons. Its average height is about 
seven feet. At the entrance there is a curious projection, 
called the tongue of the rock, from its resemblance to this 
organ of the body. If that tongue could but speak, what 
a history would be disclosed ! 

There are various recesses cut in the rock, where it is 
said Abraham, David, Elijah, and Solomon prayed. On 
stamping the foot upon a piece of marble, about the centre 
of the floor, a hollow reverberating sound is produced, 
plainly showing that there is a deep cavity below. The 
Mohammedans affirm that under this floor is the "Well of 
Souls," the entrance to Hades ; but no examination has yet 
been allowed of this unknown region. 

Research here might throw light upon a number of con- 
troverted points. The Exploration Committee have much 
important work before them in the Haram, if they could 
only get permission to begin. The Mohammedans affirm 
that the mosque contains the scales for weighing the souls 
of men — the shield of their prophet — the pomegranates of 
David — the birds of Solomon, and the saddle of the famous 
steed, Borak; also the original copy of the Koran, the 
parchment leaves of which are said to be four feet long. 
With the exception of the shield these relics were not 
shewn during our visit, and even if they had been produced 
they would possess but little interest compared with the 
rock. 

Our guide next conducted us to the Mosque of Aksa, 



STEANGE TEST OF CHAEACTEE. 



239 



supposed to have been built by the Emperor Justinian, in 
honour of the Virgin Mary, and converted into a mosque 
when the Saracens became masters of the country. It is 
a long barn-like structure, supported by many beautiful 
pillars. Two of these, which stand very closely together, 
are actually worn and indented by pilgrims, in their efforts 
to pass between them — the belief of the faithful being, that 
if a man can pass between these pillars he is sinless, and if 
he cannot force himself through, this is held to be a proof 
that his sins have not yet been forgiven. 

Such was the ridiculous notion expressed to us as we 
stood admiring the beautiful pillars. Our stoufc Moslem 
guide did not attempt to pass between them. He certainly 
would have stuck in the passage. On asking him to try, 
he shrugged his shoulders and said he had gone through 
once, and that was quite sufficient for a lifetime. He must 
have performed this feat many years ago. This circum- 
stance, however trifling it may appear, serves to show the 
woefully defective character of the Mohammedan creed as 
to the evil nature of sin, and the divine method of for- 
giveness. Somewhere about this building we were indeed 
astonished when our guide led us to a little mosque or 
sacred apartment called the Mosque of Issa, or Jesus. A 
small marble sarcophagus was pointed out, bearing His 
name, and said to be the one in which He was buried. It 
was too small for this, but the Moslems who were present 
got over the difficulty by saying, if it was not his tomb, 
it was his cradle. It was indeed strange to find such an 
object of veneration in this place. 

Next to the rock itself in the Mosque of Omar, nothing 
in the whole sacred enclosure struck us so much as the 
stupendous substructures or vaults, dome-shaped, and sup- 
ported by massive piers and pillars. When the platform 



240 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



on Mount Moriah was at first prepared for the temple, it 
was necessary to raise, in some parts of the hill where it 
sloped suddenly down, immense substructures for the pur- 
pose of obtaining a wider and more level area. This must 
have been done at prodigious labour and expense, not by 
filling up the lower parts of the hill with earth or with 
solid masonry, but by the erection of arched vaults upon 
lofty columns. The Mosque of Aksa stands on a part of 
the platform which has been thus artificially raised. There 
is no work of man in the whole enclosure that "filled us 
with greater wonder and admiration than these under- 
ground structures. In moving amongst solid columns 
and piers, and under these lofty domes, we were led back 
to the days of Solomon, for we have no doubt that some 
of these substructures belong to the reign of that illus- 
trious king; and they are in every way worthy of the 
other great achievements which have been associated with 
his name. A portion of these vaulted erections have re- 
ceived the name of Solomon's stables. They resemble 
great rock galleries supported on massive stone pillars. 
These are not to be compared in point, of antiquity with 
some of the Egyptian buildings, but they possess a far 
higher interest, as forming the foundations of the first 
great temple that was erected in this world for the ser- 
vice and the honour of the one living and true God. 

"We strolled about every part of the enclosure, without 
being hurried, and without the slightest interruption, 
walking amongst its cloisters, colonades, porticoes, and 
beautiful cypresses, which are said to have been brought 
from Stamboul as the badge of Saracenic power, and to 
shew, according to the proud boast of Saladin, that even 
a greater than Solomon has been here. 

We ascended to the top of the wall at the Golden Gate, 



captain wilson's arch. 



241 



near the projecting pillar, where the faithful believe their 
Prophet will be seated at the judgment of the great day. 
We sat for a long time under the shadow of our white 
umbrella, looking at the Mount of Olives, and the various 
rock hewn tombs, and white grave stones, in that great 
valley of the dead. Eight before us, as we looked, a funeral 
procession was slowly wending its way to a newly made 
grave, up yonder beside the brown earth and the heaps of 
stones. In all likelihood it is the burial of a Jew, who 
has come from a far country, to lay his bones amongst the 
kindred dust of many generations. 

On descending from our lofty position, we walked 
across the enclosure, and came out at a gate on the oppo- 
site side of that from which we had entered. A short 
walk brought us to the "Place of Wailing." Through a 
narrow door, leading to a private house, we obtained 
admission into a small court, and then, by means of a 
very rude and frail ladder, we went down into a deep 
excavation that has been recently made under the direc- 
tion of Captain Wilson of the Exploration Committee. 
This subterranean cutting led to the discovery of an arch, 
which may yet have a most important bearing upon the 
vexed questions connected with the ancient topography 
of the city. The man who occupied the house provided 
us with lights, and after we had descended a considerable 
way into the oppressive gloom, we found ourselves stand- 
ing under a finely-formed arch of solid masonry. Our 
feet had scarcely touched the ground, when a rumbling 
noise above startled us, as if a portion of the roof was 
falling in. The keeper of the house, who accompanied us, 
explained to the dragoman that this noise was occasioned 
by rubbish thrown down through an opening in the roof; 
so that unless measures are taken to prevent this, the 

Q 



242 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



excavation so lately made, atteuded with such striking 
results, will again speedily be filled up. It is impossible 
to describe our feelings as we stood under that ancient 
arch, with a wide span, and a breadth, it is said, of forty- 
five feet. It appeared to us to be but one of a series of 
arches springing from the old temple wall, and spanning 
the valley between the lower and the upper part of the 
city. Further excavations have only to be made, if this 
be possible, to lay bare the whole series of arches. May 
not this be "the ascent" which was made by Solomon, 
leading from his palace to the temple, and which the 
queen of Sheba is said to have admired so much? Be this 
as it may, it is very evident that the arch which we saw 
spanned a valley or a depression in the city, which has now, 
to a great extent, disappeared, having been filled up with 
ruins. As we stood with our glimmering tapers shedding 
their feeble light on the thick darkness, we threw our 
mind back into the distant past, and there rose up before 
us a gorgeous procession passing over that arch, with 
music and banners, to the temple, and we heard, as it 
were, the tramp of many feet. Not long were we per- 
mitted to indulge our fancy, for another rumble^ of rub- 
bish from the roof startled us from our dream. Emeroino- 
once more into the welcome light, we wrought our way 
through one gloomy lane after another, littered over with 
filth, and broad enough to allow a man and a camel to 
pass. By the payment of a second baksheesh, we were 
permitted to resume our old perch on the roof of the 
governor's house. From this we obtained the finest view 
of the city, and could now better understand the natural 
divisions of Zion, Acra and Bezetha, and the trench running 
between these heights, called the Cheesemonger's Valley, 
It was not a raised map, not a model in miniature that 



CONVENT OF THE CROSS. 



243 



now lay before us, but the actual city itself, with its old 
grey walls and its thousands of white domed roofs, stand- 
ing out against the clear sky, not in dull monotony, but 
every one giving its own character and colouring to the 
picture, its minarets sparkling here and there with a 
silver crescent. Take the view in mass or in detail, and 
there is no other view of a city like it in the world — not 
for beauty or magnificence, but for position, and contrasts, 
and varied representative bits of architecture, and, above 
all, for the historical associations that cluster around it. 
But even apart from this, the view is unique, and cannot 
fail to linger in the memory for ever. 

One afternoon we visited the Convent of the Cross, 
situated in a lovely dingle but a short ride from the 
city. The convent is in connection with the Greek 
Church, and seems to be but a recent erection — a new 
holy place but lately added to the long list of these. 
A service was going on in the church, and the chanting 
and reading were as nasal and metallic as ever. One of 
the priests took us to the back of the altar, and having 
lighted a taper, showed us the cavity where the tree 
had grown from which the wood of the cross was taken ! 
Of course the tree grew somewhere, but how the Greeks 
have discovered that this is the place we cannot tell ; and 
this, we suspect, is rather a difficult matter for themselves. 
There are some inventions of this kind too absurd even 
for the most credulous, and we rather fear that this Con- 
vent of the Cross will turn out to be a failure. It is, 
however, in a lovely place, made bright in the summer 
with roses, and this of itself cannot fail to be an attrac- 
tion to travellers. On returning, we rode past the Pools 
of Gihon, observing here and there watch-towers in the 
gardens and in the cultivated fields. Our way led into 



244 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



the deep ravine of Hinnora, the scene of many idolatrous 
abominations and cruelties, more especially during the 
reign of Manasseh. The sides of this gloomy gorge are 
honeycombed with caves, which served as tombs, and 
which have also, at various times, been the wretched 
abodes of men. 

On entering this glen, it was very pleasant to see the 
windmills and the neat and kindly looking row of alms 
houses, which Sir Moses Montefiore has generously built 
for his poor brethren. They have a cheerful appearance 
on the crest of the ridge, and a few old Jews who had 
found shelter and support in the evening of their days, 
were sitting at the doors overlooking the valley. The 
sight did much to take away from the repulsive associa- 
tions of a place, which in Scripture has a name synonymous 
with hell itself. The reason of this, we presume, may be 
found in the fact, that in this gorge, Moloch had his bloody 
altar, and the smoke of his cruel rites, in the observance 
of which children were made to pass through the fires, 
blackened the sides of this glen. This, in addition to the 
natural gloom of the place, might well suggest the appro- 
priate appellations, Gehenna and Tophet. To the right, 
the Field of Blood was pointed out ; and from the place 
where we stood we could only see one solitary tree, and 
this, of course, in the popular belief of eastern Christians, 
is associated with the terrible fate of the traitor. The 
valley is rugged, desolate, and bare, but, apart from its 
associations, not more so than some of our Highland 
glens on a wintry day. Near the well of Enrogel, it 
joins the valley of the Kedron. It was with deep inte- 
rest we looked down the sides of this famous old well, 
where, it is said, the sacred fire of the temple was con- 
cealed during the captivity in Babylon. It is upwards 



POOL OF SILOA3I. 



245 



of 1-0 feet in depth, and resembles the shaft of a coal pit. 
It is walled up with large hewn stones, and covered with 
an arch which bears the marks of a remote age. A little 
further on towards the city, an aged sycamore tree marks 
the spot where Isaiah, by the command of Manasseh, was 
put to death. A hundred yards farther on, brings us to 
the Pool of Siloam, the most famous of all the fountains 
about J erusalem, although only mentioned three times in 
holy writ. 

The distinguished prophet who perished in this neigh- 
bourhood speaks of Shiloah's waters that "go softly;' 5 and 
another refers to this fountain as Bear the king's gardens ; 
so that the gardens that are blooming at our feet, are the 
remains of the same old royal enclosures mentioned in 
the above passage. The third and only other allusion to 
this fountain in the Bible is in connection with the noted 
miracle of our Lord, when he said, to the blind man, " Go, 
wash in the pool of Siloam." Standing by this pool, and 
looking up to the grey walls of the city, it requires no play 
of fancy to see the poor man who received this command 
eagerly groping his way to these well-known waters ; and 
you follow him back to the city, his face radiant with 
delight, as he gazes in wonder at all the varied objects 
oi interest around him. One could not be here without 
thinking also of the blind poet, our own Milton, who sang 
of Siloa's brook, " That flowed fast by the oracles of God." 
^Ve descended by a few rude steps into a small excava- 
tion in a rock, and from the water picked up a few stones 
as memorials of our visit. This cavity was likely formed 
for holding the surplus water of the pool. The village of 
Silwan, or Siloam, but a short distance to the right on the 
slope of the hill, has a bad name. A few of its inhabitants 
gathered around us, and seemed to think they were quite 



246 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 

entitled to a baksheesh since we had presumed to pick up 
a few stones. To avoid dispute upon the matter, we made 
as quickly as we could for the side of the wall, with the 
view of reaching the heights of Zion, and entering the 
city by the gate which bears that name. Before passing 
through this gate, we paid a visit to a group of buildings 
which were spared, it is said, along with some others, 
when Titus destroyed the city'. Be this as it may, one 
thing is certain, that the group of buildings is very an- 
cient; and a special interest attaches to them, because the 
lower part has been long believed to contain the tomb of 
David, and the large hall above the vault has been long 
regarded as " the upper room furnished " in which Christ 
observed the last passover with His disciples. It is also 
affirmed that the Apostles were assembled in this same 
room when the Holy Spirit was given. As if all this 
were not enough to dignify any single group of buildings, 
it is added that the remarkable column is here to which 
the Lord was bound when He was scourged — that the 
Virgin Mary died within these walls — and that Stephen, 
the first martyr, was buried here. We were shown some- 
thing like a tomb, with a covering thrown over it, which 
was dignified with the name of David's tomb; but, on 
further inquiry, we found that the real tomb was under 
this, and that as yet no one but Moslems had been per- 
mitted to see it. Another building near this, within a 
high wall, has received the name of the palace of Caia- 
phas ; and here tradition has grouped together a strange 
medley of sacred relics. Those who are curious in these 
matters are shown the very stone that covered Christ's 
tomb, and which was transported to this place in a way 
not very creditable to the honesty of the Armenians who 
are in possession of it — the prison in which our Lord was 



LEPEES' HUTS. 



247 



confined (there is another in the Church of the Holy 
Sepulchre) — the fireplace where Peter stood and warmed 
himself when he denied his Master; and if our readers are 
able to preserve their gravity, we may mention that the 
very pillar is pointed out on which the cock stood that 
morning, when it was the unconscious instrument of re- 
minding the Apostle that he had thrice denied his Lord. 
In giving these traditions, we are merely stating what we 
heard, and as illustrations of relic-making and hunting in 
the East. The tomb of David, we know from Scripture, 
was well known in the days of the Apostles, for Peter 
referred to it on the day of Pentecost ; and notwithstand- 
ing all these absurdities, it is not unlikely that the vault 
connected with this group of buildings may actually con- 
tain the sacred spot. 

On looking over the low wall where the lepers' huts 
are built, many of these poor creatures came out, with 
their faces sadly disfigured, and their hands nearly eaten 
away by this terrible disease. They are huddled together 
in a row of low huts beyond the city wall. Their appear- 
ance threw us back to the days of our Lord, and brought 
up many incidents in the Gospel narrative, when He 
showed such tender compassion to this class of sufferers. 
We could not look on them without being reminded of 
the words which so frequently passed from His lips, "I 
will, be thou clean." No form of disease could be a more 
appropriate type of sin. 

It was Saturday evening, and we closed the work of 
the day by turning into the Jewish synagogue. This 
quarter of the city can be smelled afar off, and the odour 
is anything but fragrant. The services of the day were 
over, but many Jews were sauntering about ; some were 
seated in groups here and there reading from their sacred 



248 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



books. In this city, where the population cannot be 
much more than 18,000, there are three different days 
observed for Sunday — the Mohammedan has his Friday, 
the Jew his Saturday, and the Christian the first day of 
the week. 

On our way back to our hotel, we turned into the 
Church of the Holy Sepulchre. It was now towards 
evening. There was service in the Latin church, at which 
many strangers from a distance were present. A pro- 
cession was formed, and they went round all the sacred 
spots of special interest in the building, bearing lighted 
tapers, and singing as they moved from one spot to an- 
other. They gathered round the stone of unction and 
the sepulchre ; they went up stairs to Calvary, and had 
a service at each of these places, and some others. 

Next day was Sabbath, and we enjoyed the service 
very much in the Episcopal Church on Mount Zion. It 
was the day that is held in commemoration of the advent 
of the Holy Spirit, and we heard an excellent discourse 
on this subject from Dr. Barclay, the resident clergyman. 
The Lord's Supper was also administered, and it was 
with no ordinary degree of interest that we took part in 
that sacred rite, which was instituted at first not far from 
the spot where it was now observed. It was, doubtless, 
in this immediate neighbourhood that our Lord said, 
" This do in remembrance of me " — where He completed 
the great work of redemption, and gave Himself a ransom 
for the sins of the world. All differences of sect and 
creed were merged into one happy experience that J esus 
was known of us in the breaking of bread. A number of 
young people, chiefly Jews, were admitted to the fellow- 
ship of the Church, and, altogether, it was a most refresh- 
ing and delightful service. We spent the rest of that 



JESUS AMD THE MOUNT OF OLIVES. 



249 



day on the Mount of Olives, sometimes sitting under the 
shadow of some of the old trees that dot the hill side, or on 
a jutting piece of rock, reading those passages of Scripture 
in which this locality is mentioned in connection with 
the life of our Lord. We were surprised to find the 
number of references to this holy mount, and the visits 
He made to it. We had often read the same words 
"before, but they now stood out with new life and beauty. 

Every peculiar habit in the life of a great man is 
always regarded with special interest, and helps to throw 
light on his character and career. It may be assumed 
as a fact, and a very striking one, that our Lord, during 
the whole of His public ministry, never spent a night 
in Jerusalem. It cannot be gathered from the sacred 
narrative that He ever slept in a walled city. When He 
attended any of the great festivals, He left the crowded 
streets before sunset, crossed the Kedron, and spent the 
night on Olivet, or in the quiet retreat at Bethany, where 
He was always sure to find a friendly welcome. The 
following passages seem to prove to a certainty that this 
was a fixed habit with our Lord. One of the chapters of 
J ohn's Gospel begins with this announcement : " Jesus 
went unto the Mount of Olives/' The verse that closes 
the preceding chapter, contains the statement, "Every 
man went unto his own house." It was near sundown, 
and the gathering shadows of approaching night called 
every man to his own home. Jesus had none in the city: 
He went to the Mount of Olives. Eeferrino- to the same 
habit of retiring from the city towards evening, one of 
the evangelists informs us regarding another visit our 
Lord paid to Jerusalem — "And in the day time he was 
teaching in the temple ; and at night he went out, and 
abode in the mount that is called the Mount of Olives." 



250 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



On the night before His death, after He had instituted 
the commemorative feast of love which was afterwards to 
bear His name, and having taken an affectionate farewell of 
His disciples, we read in that touching story of betrayal, 
"He came out, and went, as He was wont, to the Mount 
of Olives." On that sacred ridge, over which His blessed 
feet had so often walked, there was some favourite resort 
which was known by Him and His disciples as "the 
place," so that when the traitor headed the band that was 
to seize his Master, he knew where to find Him, for Jesus 
oft-times resorted thither with His disciples. Any one 
acquainted with the customs of the East will see nothing 
at all strange in this. At certain seasons of the year the 
people prefer to sleep in the open air on the roofs of their 
houses, or in some temporary erection in the fields, for the 
sake of enjoying a more cooling breeze. When we reached 
Gaza, after leaving the desert, we were informed that 
many of the people were preparing to quit the town, and 
camp out by the seaside. The friends that we met there 
from our own country were about to follow their example. 
But for the circumstances which compelled us to sleep at 
"the Damascus" during our stay in Jerusalem, we would 
certainly have spent our evenings on the Mount of Olives, 
where our tents were pitched. The fact therefore that 
our Lord retired from the city at sunset cannot be taken 
as indicating anything unusual on His part; but, at the 
same time, while this habit was quite in keeping with the 
customs of the country, there is something, to our mind, 
very touching in it, when read in connection with His 
own words, betokening a sad and solitary life — "The 
foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, 
but the Son of Man hath not where to lay His head." 
We turned in once more to the "place which is called 



FESTIVAL OF THE MACCABEES. 



251 



Gethseruane," and lingered about it till the silver crescents 
on the minarets of the mosques were glittering in the 
rays of the setting sun. Entering at St. Stephen's Gate, 
and proceeding up the Via Dolorosa, vre passed once 
more into the Chapel of the Scourging, and came under 
the arch which has received the name of u Ecce Homo !' ! 
as this is said to be the place where Pilate brought forth 
Jesus, saying to the multitude, "Behold the man!" We 
examined once more the various stations of that narrow, 
gloomy street; these served, at least, to bring up, very 
vividly, to our mind the affecting incidents connected 
with that sad day in the life of our blessed Lord, when 
He carried His own cross through the streets of this city ; 
and we clung with heartfelt oratitude and confidence to 
the precious truth that He bore our griefs and carried our 
sorrows. 

The following Monday was a holiday amongst the Jews, 
and the'scene we witnessed near the tombs of the Judges 
was similar to that which met our eyes on our first ap- 
proach to the city. Many families sat on carpets spread 
upon the bare, brown earth. They were all dressed in 
their best attire, and had brought provisions for the day. 
This festival we were informed was in honour of the pat- 
riot brothers, the Maccabees. The excavations in which 
the tombs are situated, could only admit few persons at a 
time. The people patiently waited their turn and went 
in, kissed the tombs, muttered a few words of prayer, and 
withdrew. Many came out with their faces bearing the 
marks of a deep sorrow. Great attention was paid by the 
whole crowd to a mother and daughter, who went in, and 
stood for a considerable time. They were dressed in deep 
mourning, and were evidently of high rank. The daugh- 
ter had a stately bearing, and a face of lustrous beauty ; 



252 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



but it was the marked expression of that countenance that 
struck us so much. There was high souled daring in it 
as she came out from the tomb of the patriot brothers. 
She might have passed for Judith, or Deborah, or the 
Maid of Orleans. The women looked up to her as to some 
superior being, and during the short time she remained on 
the ground, she was treated with the most marked respect. 

We next visited the Tombs of the Kings, at several of 
which lamps were burning. The visitors knelt, kissed 
the cold stones most fervently, and prayed with an ear- 
nestness which was truly affecting to behold. Strange it 
is that a people so patriotic should be without a country ; 
and is this fondly cherished patriotism in all lands, and 
through all suffering and privation, not a token that this 
country so passionately loved is yet to be their own? 
One poor woman, had a wild and grotesque appearance, 
reminding us of Meg Merrilees. At times she threw 
herself on her knees; then rose and assumed the most 
tragic air, tossing her dishevelled hair over her shoulders, 
extending her arms towards heaven and uttering the 
most solemn appeals, accompanied now and again with 
the most piercing shrieks. Sometimes she would hold her 
head with both hands, on which there was a profusion of 
rings. Seldom have we witnessed a more touching dis- 
play of grief. Her reason was evidently affected. She 
struck the people with awe and terror, and no one ven- 
tured to address to her a single word. 

Leaving this exciting scene we rode on to the huge rock 
cave of Jeremiah, and were shown the dungeon in which 
it is said he was confined, and the apartment where he 
wrote his "Lamentations." From this we passed to a 
narrow entrance near "The Damascus" Gate, leading to 
the excavations under the city. The opening is so small 



QUARRIES UNDER THE CITY. 



253 



that we had much more difficulty in getting in than we 
had in passing between the two pillars in the Mosque of 
Aksa. These excavations are of immense extent, and 
were evidently used at one time as quarries, from which, 
in all probability, stones were taken for the building of 
Solomon's Temple, and other gigantic undertakings. We 
had a good guide and an excellent supply of tapers, so we 
remained for a long time under the city examining these 
quarries. We entered many of the recesses, from which 
huge blocks have been taken. It is more than likely 
that the immense stones to which the disciples called 
their Master's attention in the words, " See what manner 
of stones and what buildings are here !" were cut out of 
the solid rock under the city. Some huge blocks have 
been abandoned in an unfinished state, as if they had 
not been required. Small niches here and there were 
blackened with smoke, and we concluded that these had 
been made for holding the workmen's lamps. We also 
came upon two or three springs of deliciously cool water. 
It is supposed, and it is not at all unlikely, that Solomon 
obtained from these quarries the stones with which to build 
his magnificent temple. They were measured, hewn, and 
prepared to fit exactly the places for which they were 
designed in that building. This may serve to explain the 
statement made in the following passage of Scripture, so 
far as the mason work was concerned : " And the house, 
when it was in building, was built of stone made ready 
before it was brought thither : so that there was neither 
hammer, nor axe, nor any tool of iron heard in the house, 
while it was in building " (1 Kings vi. 7). 

No one would ever think of leaving Jerusalem without 
visiting the Jews' Wailing Place, where for sixteen cen- 
turies or more, the wail of the scattered nation has gone 



254 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



up to the God of their fathers. There is not one stone 
of the ancient temple above ground, so that, according to 
our Lord's predictions, it is literally true that not one 
stone has been left standing upon another. All has been 
thrown down. The foundation wall, however, that was 
raised from the depths of the ravine in order to widen 
the platform, is still to be seen, and at one part of this 
very ancient structure, the Jews are permitted to assem- 
ble, that they may utter such lamentations as the 
following : — "Be not wroth very sore, O Lord, neither 
remember iniquity for ever ; behold, see, we beseech Thee, 
we are all Thy people. Thy holy cities are a wilderness, 
Zion is a wilderness, Jerusalem a desolation. Our holy 
and our beautiful house where our fathers praised Thee, 
is burned up with fire : and all our pleasant things are 
laid waste. Wilt Thou refrain Thyself for these things, 
O Lord ? wilt Thou hold thy peace and afflict us very 
sore?" "Why hast Thou cast us off for ever? Arise, 
O God, and plead Thine own cause !" 

It was on a Friday afternoon when, after threading our 
way through dirty streets and passages, we reached a 
long paved court, with the high wall of the Haram on the 
one side, and a blind wall forming the back of modem 
houses on the other. At this part of the Haram there 
are five courses of large bevelled stones. The masonry 
which rises above this, is of a much more recent date. 
The stones in the lower courses have a look of hoary 
grandeur about them, and are of immense size, varying 
from twenty to thirty feet in length, and from five to six 
feet in depth. The scene which we witnessed here was 
very affecting. About a hundred Jews were present, 
from the child of two or three years old, to the venerable 
patriarch of fourscore. The photograph of this touching 



\ 
\ 



WAILING PLACE. 



255 



scene is, doubtless, familiar to many of our readers. Some 
were sitting with their backs to the modern wall, and 
gazing intently on the large blocks of stone before them. 
We passed and repassed, but they never withdrew their 
eyes from this object for a single moment. They looked 
as if their eyes would pierce that massive wall. Ever 
and anon they would utter, in plaintive tones, some ap- 
propriate passage from their sacred writings. Many were 
eagerly engaged in reading from their Hebrew Bibles. 
At one corner a small group was made up of grim faces, 
which bore the marks of stern controversy more than of 
grief. This was to them the place of wrangling more 
than wailing. They were deep in some disputed point. 
Ere we left, however, every one of these disputants kissed 
the stones, and bowed their heads in sorrow. A little, 
toddling child, with lustrous eyes, was lifted up by an 
aged man, whom we took to be her grandfather, to kiss 
the stones. Placing the bairn on her feet again, he spread 
out his hands as far as he could reach them on the old 
walls, his white beard covering his breast. He laid his 
head in one of the great rents, and groaned forth his 
anguish in some such words as these — " O Lord, how long ! 
— how long, Lord, how long !" It was just such an atti- 
tude as we could conceive Isaiah or Jeremiah assuming 
over the ruins of their temple. Another old man, tooth- 
less and wrinkled, stood tottering over his staff, and 
gazing, with tearful emotion, with his head on his breast, 
and muttering some words of prayer. He reminded us 
of Bible pictures we had seen of Eli the high priest, going 
out to hear how it fared with Israel in the battle. A 
group of women, who were very deeply affected, brought 
vividly to our mind a picture we have seen somewhere 
of the captive exiles by the river of Babylon. They sat 



256 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



■with their hands clasped round their knees, and their 
heads bowed down in silent sorrow. A pale, elderly 
woman sat apart by herself, rocking to and fro, and 
forcibly recalled to our mind the sad scene which we 
once witnessed in a lone cottage, when it was our pain- 
ful task to break the terrible news to an aged widowed 
mother of the sudden death of her only son. She heard 
in silence, without a tear ; but the rocking motion of her 
frame showed how deeply she felt the blow. Some at 
that wailing place were not much affected; their grief 
seemed artificial, and assumed for the time; but, on the 
whole, it was a very mournful sight, and one in which 
there was, doubtless, very much genuine sadness. We 
could not witness it without feeling, in some respects, a 
kindred sorrow. The whole nation, from every part of 
the world, has been represented in that paved court, ex- 
tending to some forty yards in length. No other land 
in the world has another sight like it. 

" Thy saints take pleasure in her stones, 
Her vdry dust to them is dear." 

" If I forget thee, O J erusalem, let my right hand forget 
her cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue 
cleave to the roof of my mouth; if I prefer not Jerusalem 
above my chief joy" (Psalm cxxxvii,). 



CHAPTER XII. 



EXCURSION TO THE JORDAN AND THE DEAD SEA — ARMED ESCORT — OUR 
HORSES AND MULES SEIZED — TRIUMPH OF LORD CLARENDON'S SEAL 

OEF TO JERICHO — BATH IN THE JORDAN — DEAD SEA — PHYSICAL 

ASPECTS OF THE GH6R — CONTENT OF MAR SABA — ROW AT BETHLEHEM 
— GROTTO OF THE NATIVITY — SOLOMON 'S POOLS — HEBRON — ABRAHAM'S 
OAK — CAVE OF MACHPELAH — MOSLEM FANATICISM — ANOTHER BUSINESS 
TRANSACTION — GLASS MANUFACTURE — VALLEY OF URTAS — LOCUSTS- 
BETHLEHEM RE-VISITED — THE WELL OF DAVID — RACHEL'S TOMB — 
RETURN TO JERUSALEM — FAREWELL. 



were needed, Ibrahim should provide it ; so we requested • 
him to make all necessary arrangements. The risk after 
all, in our case at least, could not be very great, for our 
dragoman was satisfied with two brothers from Bethany, 
who engaged to take us a round of places, including the 
Jordan and the Dead Sea, an excursion which would 
occupy about a week. When we looked with some degree 
of hesitation on our armed escort, Ibrahim assured us that 
"Some one man in this world be as good as fifty mans." 
Of course we were left to draw the inference. The two 
brothers were indeed the most powerful-looking Arabs 
we had yet seen, and were said to occupy some position 
of trust in the district. The truth was, when it suited 

R 




OU must be sure and get an armed escort before 
proceeding to the Jordan," was a caution we 
heard frequently repeated. It was a part of 
our contract that if such an accompaniment 



258 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



himself, Ibrahim saw no " bad way " and no " bad Arabs," 
and as it fell to him to provide the escort, he was as 
sparing as he could. Had it been our duty to do this, we 
would have heard no end to the dangers of the journey, 
and Ibrahim woidd not have risked his canteens for the 
best half-dozen men in the country. His own pocket was 
now involved in the matter, and the way became at once 
very good, no " bad Arabs/' and " some one man be as 
good as fifty mans!' 

When all arrangements were made for our departure, 
a rather serious hitch, so it seemed at first, took place on 
the morning when we were about to start. Ibrahim, at 
the head of all the servants, including old Mustapha, 
whom he had taken into council, presented himself in a 
towering passion and scarcely able to speak for excitement 
— " Horses, mules, all away! stolen! thieves!" he gasped 
out. Our first impression was that our armed escort had 
run off with them, and that this was the first act in the 
little drama of our expedition. By and by, however, we 
learned partly from one and another, that all our horses 
and mules had been seized by a band of Turkish soldiers, 
and marched off to the citadel, by order of some military 
official. Ibrahim and all our men had followed, remon- 
strating, pleading, coaxing, but in vain, and in his view 
of the case, they were all "dead gone!" and it might 
be weeks before they could be got, or we might never see 
them, again. On hearing this, we thought our dragoman 
or some of our attendants had been guilty of some indis- 
cretion which had provoked the ire of the authorities, but 
all most vehemently protested they had done nothing. It 
was curious that not one of them could see anything that 
could be done in the matter further than simply to submit 
— "God had willed it, and so it must be." We resolved to 



OUR HORSES AND MULES SEIZED. 



259 



seek redress at once from our Consul; so, then and there, 
forming ourselves into marching order, we proceeded to the 
Consulate. He had gone to Beyrout on urgent business, 
and would not return for several days ; but he had left a 
most active substitute, who spoke English well, and whom 
we took to be a Greek. He heard our complaint, and 
entered most heartily into our case. From him we 
learned, for the first time, that, on account of serious 
disturbances in Turkey, almost all the soldiers were being 
removed from Syria to meet the emergency, and that such 
w as the state of the Sultan's finances that his troops could 
only be removed from one place to another by seizing 
horses and mules, no matter where they could be got. 
This was the reason why our horses had been marched off. 
He told us, that for several days before all the donkeys 
belonging to the fellaheen in the neighbourhood of Jeru- 
salem had been seized, for conveying the troops and 
baggage to the seaboard, without any reason offered or 
payment given. He presented a most gloomy picture 
•of the state of Turkish finances. "But to the point!" 
he said, "to the point!" the definite article in this case 
receiving a more than usually definite and emphatic 
pronunciation than it does even from a foreigner. " To 
the point !" and he rubbed his hands with something 
like satisfaction, and felt quite delighted at the prospect 
of a tussle with the Turks, and certain of victory. He 
told his cawass to get ready; and this Consular official 
soon appeared with his immense staff of office, mounted 
with a large silver head, and shod with an iron spike. 
His dress also bore marks of some " brief authority." On 
getting to the street we all fell into the form of a regular 
procession, and set off to the citadel to lay our complaint 
before the military Pasha. The cawass strutted before us, 



260 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



making his staff ring upon the stones, as much as to say, 
"The British lion is roused, and he'll do it!" He was. 
at least in his own estimation, the " organ blower," and a 
great deal more in this business. On passing up the street 
to the Tower of David, a couple of soldiers came up to a 
peasant who was driving a donkey with vegetables to the 
market. Without the slightest parley they tossed the 
panniers on to the street, and drove the donkey off to the 
barracks, leaving its owner uttering lamentations, and 
wringing his hands. His beast had exchanged masters 
and the poor man was left to gather up the scattered pro- 
duce of his garden as best he could. He had no redress, 
but his case gave us an additional stimulus to present 
our claim, with an urgency that would take no denial and 
brook no delay. 

On reaching the military quarters, we were shown into 
an open court, with divans placed round the sides. Here 
we found the Pasha and a number of officers smoking. 
After the usual salams, the Vice-Consul opened the busi- 
ness in the Turkish language. Had we understood what 
he said at the time, it would have been very difficult to 
have maintained anything like gravity ; for, by a species 
of exaggeration quite admissable in the East, we (that is, 
the writer and his friend) were represented as important 
personages of illustrious descent — in short, nearly related 
to her Britannic Majesty, and occupying prominent posi- 
tions of influence in the empire. The consular agent 
proceeded to ask if his Highness was prepared for war, 
which might inevitably follow such an insult offered to 
the British flag, or to pay damages to the amount of 
several thousand pounds ! The outrage committed would 
doubtless disturb the friendly relations between the Porte 
and the British Government ! His Excellency continued 



STRANGE INTERVIEW. 



281 



to smoke with truly Moslem gravity, and we thought for 
a time he was bent on giving us a practical illustration 
of one of Carlyle's everlasting silences, when at last he 
deigned to ask if it was not true that our government, 
during the Crimean war, had seized upon merchant ves- 
sels and pressed them into the service of carrying troops? 
The Greek met this by stating, that if this had been the 
case, it was for the purpose of serving the Sultan in his 
great need, and of protecting the Turkish power. He 
gently hinted that gratitude for all this would prompt the 
immediate release of our horses and mules. " Is it true," 
he now appealed to us, " that your government seized 
merchant vessels wherever they could find them, and 
pressed them into the service for carrying troops ?" Of 
course, we assumed our most indignant look, and made 
an emphatic denial of the charge, assuring his Excel- 
lency, through our agent, that all the vessels which 
had been employed for this purpose were regularly 
chartered and paid for. Another long pause ensued, 
during which a black slave, on a signal being given, 
brought a newly filled nargileh to his Highness, who 
resumed his smoking, and dropped a few words now and 
then to the officers about him. The representative of 
British interests, fast losing all patience, made another 
appeal to the Pasha as to the dangers that might arise 
out of this business, and getting no reply, he said to us in 
English, " Come ! come ! we will go, — the Turks will have 
to pay a large fine for this." We were just about to with- 
draw, when, happily we bethought ourselves of a paper 
which was kindly procured for us before leaving for the 
East, from the Foreign Office, and signed by Lord Claren- 
don, then Secretary for Foreign Affairs. Thanks to the 
clerk in that department, who affixed, perhaps in a moment 



262 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



when some bright thought of love or of patriotism warmed 
his heart, a more than usual breadth and depth of sealing- 
wax to this document, which brought out the British Lion 
and his mythical companion, the Unicorn, in bold relief. 
This formidable - looking paper, which simply recom- 
mended us to the kind offices of all Her Majesty's Consuls 
in the East, was handed to the Pasha. Of course he could 
not read a word of it, but he understood that enormous 
seal of red wax with the grim old lion. That seal spoke for 
us, it was our talisman, and again we say thanks to the 
clerk who affixed it ! It made a deep impression on the 
Pasha, for he ordered coffee and pipes, and notwithstand- 
ing the sundry indications which our dress gave of the 
tear and wear of the desert, some parts of it being in a 
most dilapidated condition, he seemed to believe that, after 
all, we might be what the vice-consul had represented. 
Be this as it may, whilst we sat and sipped our coffee, we 
had the satisfaction of seeing all our horses and mules, 
marched off under the charge of the mukhari. It was the 
triumph of that bit of red wax over Turkish incapacity and 
misrule ! A day was lost, but it might have been worse. 
Trifling as this incident may appear, it serves to show 
how matters are managed in the East. We bowed our 
acknowledgments as well as we could in Eastern style, 
and retired. It was scarcely possible to restrain our at- 
tendants within due bounds in the presence of the Turkish 
soldiers, when the order was given to release our horses 
and mules. A triumph was gained ; of course the cawass 
had achieved it, and he looked a few inches taller when 
he returned, and his staff of office was brought down with 
more emphasis than ever upon the bullet-shaped stones on 
the street. Frequently did he strike the fire from them as 
he strutted along. It was a proud occasion for the Vice- 



WILDERNESS OF JUDEA. 



263 



Consul; the feeling was contagious, for when we were fairly 
out of sight of all Turkish officials, we could have thrown 
our cap up in the air for perfect joy. 

Next morning we started on our journey, and were not 
long on our way till we saw the appropriateness of the 
Scripture expression, "down from Jerusalem to Jericho!' 
We passed again through Bethany, where we halted for 
a little. Travelling, as we did that day, over the desolate 
and rugged part of the country, called the "Wilderness of 
Judea," we could now understand much better many inci- 
dents in the life of David, and also the frequent allusions 
in his Psalms to this district. He had found shelter 
amongst the rocks and caves which abound here, and 
there is scarcely any object in nature more frequently re- 
ferred to in his songs than the rock. As, for example, 
"When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the rock 
that is higher than I;" " The Lord liveth; and blessed be 
my rock ; and exalted be the God of the rock of my sal- 
vation." The mere references to the " rock " in the book 
of Psalms would fill several pages. 

We passed many suspicious-looking places, caves, gorges, 
high precipitous banks, and the dry channel beds of fierce 
mountain torrents, far away down in the deep defile, so 
that the road suggested more than once to our mind the 
parable of the man who went down from Jerusalem to 
Jericho, and fell among thieves. It is just the very road 
to furnish lurking-places to such characters. Ibrahim, 
though professedly a Coptic Christian, knew nothing of 
that touching story till we told him ; and when he heard 
it, he said, suiting the action to the word, "Bad road — 
much cut-throat — plenty robber I" It is a road that sug- 
gests at once robbery and dens of thieves. We passed 
a deep ravine, the narrow path leading by the edge of a 



264 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



terrible precipice. The brook, which runs in the rainy 
season, was dry. This is supposed to be the "brook 
Cherith," where Elijah was miraculously sustained. The 
wild and rugged scenery was in keeping with the stern 
character of that great prophet. Frequently was the par- 
able of the good Samaritan referred to as we proceeded on 
our journey. Happily we did not meet with the slightest 
interruption, and did not require the services of any one 
actuated by a similar spirit. We reached a height near 
the fountain of Elisha, and here, for the sake of coolness, 
we pitched our tents for the night. What with the in- 
tense heat, the howling of jackals, and the croaking of 
bull-frogs, sleep was out of the question. The season was 
so far advanced, and the heat so great, that it was neces- 
sary to be in the saddle and on our way very early next 
morning. Old Mustapha had our breakfast ready about 
three o'clock. Our table was spread as usual in the open 
air, but on this occasion under the bright stars, and with 
as many lanterns and candles as we could muster. We 
took breakfast on the very spot, doubtless, where Elijah 
and Elisha often conversed with each other. The sons 
of the prophets must often have camped out in the same 
place ; but it is not at all likely that they ever had such 
an early breakfast on that hill side. We were deep in 
some such reflections as the above, when the bull-frogs 
grew much more furious in their piping at the bottom of 
the hill. 

The sun was rising when we passed the village of Kiha, 
the modern J ericho, the most wretched collection of mud 
huts that we had seen during the whole journey. The 
morning concert of the frogs, at the fountain of Elisha, was 
succeeded by a furious demonstration from the dogs of 
this miserably dirty place. They were half starved and 



THE JORDAN. 



265 



more ferocious than any we had yet met. The appearance 
of the inhabitants was quite in keeping with their dwell- 
ings and their dogs. The very name. Jericho, suggested 
many thrilling recollections in connection with some of 
our world's greatest names and events, but a few mud 
huts are all that now remain to represent the name, if not 
the site of that once famous " City of Palms.'"' We could 
net pass it without thinking of that memorable day when 
blind Bartimeus sat begging at the gate of the city, and 
he heard the tramp of many feet as Jesus of Nazareth 
passed by, and left him with the blessing of restored sight. 

Anxious to reach the Jordan, we cantered quickly over 
the plain. A gun was fired a few paces behind us, and on 
looking back we saw a large serpent shot through the 
head by one of our escort. We strained our eyes in the 
direction of the river, but it lies so deep, between high 
shelving banks of rock, that it was not till we were within 
a few yards of the brink that we saw its brown waters. 
Our feelings on seeing these were similar to those which 
we experienced when looking at Jerusalem for the first 
time. It is but a small stream compared with the mighty 
rivers which fill so large a space in the commerce of the 
world; but it is the great river of the Bible, and has 
been associated with events which turn all other rivers 
into the shade. Thrice were its waters rolled back, and 
a passage opened through them on dry ground. We 
could not have been far from the spot where the Jordan 
saw the Ark of the Covenant, followed by the hosts of 
Israel and fled, and the event was immortalised in the 
national song. ' Jordan was driven back! What ailed 
thee, O thou sea, that thou fleddest, thou Jordan, that 
thou wast driven back ?" The concpiering hosts went up 
to possess the land, for their terror had fallen upon the 



266 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



inhabitants thereof. Not far distant was the spot where 
the river was again divided ; and the last walk which 
Elijah and Elisha had upon earth was suddenly brought 
to a close, when the chariot of fire carried the former up 
into heaven. The lonely prophet returned with the mantle 
of his father and smote the waters, making the solemn 
appeal to his father's God, "Where is the Lord God of 
Elijah ?" The waters heard, and were parted hither and 
thither ; and this solitary man was thus divinely acknow- 
ledged to be the prophet of Israel. The place could not 
have been far off where a much greater event than any 
of these took place in the baptism of our Lord, when He 
was proclaimed to be the Son of the Highest by a voice 
from heaven, and by the visible descent of the Holy Spirit. 

The pilgrim season was over, and we had the whole open 
space to ourselves. At the place we bathed there is a 
gentle slope down to the water, and in looking up the river 
at this point, we observed it took a bend not unlike the 
letter S. It is remarkable for its serpent-like form, and so 
numerous are its windings from the lake of Tiberias to 
the Dead Sea, that they extend to two hundred miles, 
although the direct line is no more than sixty. It was, 
we thought, fully a hundred feet wide, and save in those 
places where it met with obstructions, in rocks and stones, 
it shot past with great rapidity. It becomes very much 
wider before it enters the Dead Sea. There was quite a 
profusion of trees, and shrubs, and low brushwood, in a 
tangled mass of luxuriant vegetation. In some parts the 
banks were covered with impenetrable jungle, where wild 
beasts have their lair, and where the still more dangerous- 
sons of the desert may lie concealed when bent on mischief. 

The river is so rapid that we were glad to lay hold of 
the branch of a tree that overhung a deep pool, and by 



THE DEAD SEA, 



?67 



means of this we were enabled to dip ourselves all over to 
our heart's content. Having finished this process we next 
tried the wading, where the waters rush over a shingly 
part of the channel, and as this was the first time we ever 
had our feet in these sacred waters, and was likely to be 
the last, we were in no hurry with our ablutions. We 
filled several bottles with water, picked up a few stones 
from the bed of the river, and lingered about the thickets, 
cutting sticks as memorials of the place. Few will feel 
inchned to laugh at us for doing so, for if there is any 
place where this may be tolerated without a sniile, it is 
surely at the Jordan. 

The Dead Sea had yet to be visited, and we were obliged 
reluctantly to leave. A few moments afterwards, when 
we tinned round to take a parting look of the sacred 
waters, they were already concealed by the high bank from 
our view. We saw the fringe of tropical vegetation; this 
when looked at from a height, resembles a huge green 
serpent. 

An hour's ride over a wide plain, crusted with salt, in 
which our horse sank at every step to the fetlocks, brought 
us to the shores of the Dead Sea. No place did we ever 
approach with such strangely mingled feelings of awe and 
mystery a- " Bahr Liit." " the Sea of Lot." as it is -till called 
by the Arabs. Its name and its terrors had been familiar 
to us by reading from earliest childliood. We had learned 
to associate with its dreaded name all that was terrible, 
ghastly, and desolate. It had long been our belief that 
it was nature's impersonation of eveiything that was 
awful in death, and that no bird could approach it without 
being poisoned by its exhalations. Some of these early 
and erroneous impressions were now corrected by personal 
observation. We halted near a little rocky island, from 



268 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



which several birds rose and flew towards the opposite 
shore. We were also agreeably disappointed as to the 
water itself. The day was one of intense heat and bright 
sunshine. There was not a breath of wind, not a ripple 
on the sea, it lay as smooth as a mirror, and greatly to our 
surprise, the water was clearer than any Highland loch we 
• have ever seen. Smollet has sung the praises of his native 
stream, the Leven, that fair daughter of the Queen of 
Scottish Lakes — 

' ' Pure stream, in whose transparent wave 
My youthful limbs I wont to lave." 

But never have we seen the Leven appear in such shin- 
ing transparency as did the waters of Bahr Lut on the 
occasion of our visit. We had some vague impression that 
its water must be like liquid asphalt, a mixture of brine 
and of tar. Could we have possibly shut out all the 
surroundings, and looked only at the sea that lay before 
us, calm and clear like a sheet of glass, we could never 
have imagined, from any previous impression we had of 
it, that we were looking upon the Dead Sea. The water 
of Loch Coruisk in Skye is much more stern and grim, the 
blackness of darkness itself. In short, as one of our party 
remarked, after he had gone into the water a few yards 
from the shore, "the Dead Sea is too clear for comfort, one 
sees the bottom too well/' This remark was called forth 
by the yawning rocks and caverns far below the surface, 
and which the very clearness of the water, together with all 
our former conceptions, served to make still more terrible 
and mysterious. The beach where we bathed sloped down 
towards the water, and was covered with smooth round 
stones. We picked up several pieces of bitumen as me- 
mentoes of our visit. So much then for first impressions, 



THE DEAD SEA. 



269 



which tended to modify considerably some of our former 
ideas of the place 

We beg our readers, however, to bear in mind that as 
yet we had only looked at the water itself, and had tried 
to shut out for a little all its terrible surroundings. The 
moment, however, we turned from the sea to its shores so 
desolate, gloomy, and grim, so silent and bare, we never 
received such an impression of utter desolation, and never 
expect to see anything approaching it. It far exceeded 
anything we could possibly have conceived. If there had 
been some exaggerations in one direction, which a few 
moments' personal observation served to correct, any de- 
scription we have ever read of this extraordinary region 
had completely failed, just as we will do ourselves, in 
bringing out the terrible aspects of a place which, for 
desolation, has no parallel in the world. Here, then, can 
be no exaggeration. It is a scene that must be witnessed, 
it cannot be described. 

The shore was strewn with trunks of trees, with every 
vestige of bark stripped off, and these, with their bare 
and bleached branches lying about in the most grotesque 
forms, added another ghastly element to this region of 
death. These trees had been borne down by the impetuous 
waters of the J ordan when in flood, and thrown up bare 
and peeled on the shingly beach. Of course we bathed, 
and this made us better acquainted with the remark- 
able properties of the water. We had heard of the 
apples of Sodom, fair to look upon but most bitter to 
the taste, if indeed they could be tasted at all. This 
was true at least of Bahr Lut. We struck out, as 
usual to swim, but, from its wonderful buoyancy, any 
attempt at this was most awkward and ludicrous. 
Our hands merely skimmed the surface, and our feet 



270 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



flew up in the air. Our attendants on the shore 
laughed, and we were provoked, in an evil moment, to do 
the same. The result was that we got a mouthful of the 
water, and besides this some of it went into our eyes. It 
was now that we felt, in good earnest, that we were truly 
in the Dead Sea. It would be difficult to make up a 
draught so intensely bitter from any compound of sea- 
water. The extreme pungency is owing to salt springs 
and other bitter substances with which the water is im- 
pregnated. It contains twenty per cent, more of saline 
matter than the ocean, and this adds immensely to its 
bitterness and density. It possesses the latter quality to 
such a degree that it is almost impossible for a human 
body to sink. Clearness, density, and bitterness, are three 
remarkable properties of the water. We were not prepared 
for the first of these, and the other two were far greater 
than we expected. But for the mouthful of water our 
bath would have been most delicious. Some complain of 
a painful irritation of the skin for sometime after bathing. 
This was not our experience, but there is an oily clammi- 
ness all over, and were we returning, we would be inclined 
to reverse the bathing process by commencing with the 
Dead Sea and finishing with the Jordan. 

No trace of life has been found in these bitter waters, so 
far as we are aware. Mr. Tristram states in his " Land of 
Israel," that he discovered the larvae of insects, but these 
were found only in shallow pools, and not in the lake 
itself. No creature, with anything like a stomach, can 
possibly live in these bitter waters for any length of time. 

A bright day makes the gloomiest Highland glen look 
blythe and cheerful; it softens and subdues the sterner 
aspects. But a Syrian sun flaming upon these chalk 
mountains, upon these sulphurous cliffs which form the 



THE DEAD SEA. 



271 



sides of the caldron, on which the Sea of Lot lies sim- 
mering, only serves to reveal more terribly the ghastliness 
of death. It is like placing a light in the hands of a 
corpse. This was the scene of an awful judgment that fell 
upon the " Cities of the Plain," and it is an interesting 
question, how far the means employed for this purpose 
may have produced the present geological and desolate 
aspect of this wonderful region. 

The extraordinary depression of the Dead Sea, being 
about 1400 feet below the level of the Mediterranean; 
its complete isolation from all other seas, no other out- 
let having as yet been discovered for its waters ; the 
extreme bitterness of these, notwithstanding the constant 
flow of the Jordan and its tributaries into this caldron, 
where they find a grave, are facts which, from a merely 
geological point of view, render the Ghor and its asphalt 
lake the most remarkable locality on the face of the earth. 

The heat was something almost beyond endurance ; it 
flashed up like a furnace from the salt encrusted plain, 
from the white cliffs, from the bare trunks of trees, and 
from the shining shingles on the beach, which would have 
blistered our naked feet, had they been long exposed 
to them. 

Ere we left, a thick haze steamed up from the lake, and 
in a little became a heavy mist, spreading from shore to 
shore. It hung over it like a vapour on a mill pond, 
after a rush of hot water. We saw a curious phenomenon 
which may serve to illustrate the intensity of the heat. 
This mist quivered and glowed in the fierce rays of the 
sun, like a dark sky gleaming in the dazzling flashes of 
lightning. 

The evaporation in this region must be immense. It 
was amazing how very speedily one of the trees lying on 



272 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 

the shore became dry, after a quantity of water from the 
lake had been poured upon it. It was too late in the 
season; the air was stifling, and it would have been 
dangerous, in our feverish condition, to have remained 
much longer exposed to such a heat. We were therefore 
obliged, most reluctantly, to give up our fondly cherished 
intention of camping for one night by the Dead Sea. 
The long journey of the desert was not so trying as the 
one day we spent in the Gh6r, and the ride that followed 
to the convent of Mar Saba. Our readers must bear in 
mind that we were in a basin, 1400 feet beneath the 
level of the Mediterranean, surrounded by limestone rocks 
and cliffs, that flashed back the fierce heat of the sun. 
We had to scale one face of a hill after another, descend 
into deep chasms, and climb again from the bottom of a 
gorge, heated like an oven. 

" Surely that enormous bare mountain rising before us 
will be the last. Can we ever reach its summit ?" How 
wistfully we looked up to its white bald head — not the 
slightest trace of a green thing all around — not a tree to be 
seen — not a blade of grass. We take a long pull at our 
zemzemia on the way, but the water is hot and sickening, 
and we now find that by a cruel neglect on the part of our 
attendants no fresh water has been supplied at the Jor- 
dan. We press forward, and with wistful eye again look 
up to that bald head and make another desperate effort to 
reach it. The top is at last gained, and we turn and look 
down on Bahr Lut simmering in the caldron below. Again 
we descend, and again we mount, the road, at times, 
being nothing more than a narrow ledge of rock on the 
face of a. tremendous precipice, forming one of the sides of 
the great basin scooped out by some terrible convulsion of 
nature. This is the wilderness of Judea, and we can better 



WILDERNESS OF JUDEA. 



273 



understand the life and the psalms of David after having 
passed through these scenes of wild and desolate grandeur, 
where the stem piety and patriotism of Elijah and John 
the Baptist were nursed, and where they received indelible 
impressions from these awful aspects of nature. This, in 
all likelihood, was the scene of our Lord's temptation 
when He was led out into the wilderness. There is per- 
haps no country in the world where such striking con- 
trasts are to be found as in Palestine. For example, the 
flowery carpet of Sharon and Esdrselon, the wilderness 
of Judea, and the desolate shores of the Dead Sea. How 
striking and appropriate the words of the Psalmist now 
appear — "As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so 
panteth my soul after Thee, God/' "My flesh longeth for 
thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is." This 
was the wilderness, the land not inhabited, into which the 
scape-goat was driven forth; and Holman Hunt's remark- 
able painting on this subject was vividly present to our 
mind. 

At last we reached a bare rock on the top of a hill where 
there is a deep well of water. Never have we felt such 
exhaustion as when we dismounted and lay down under 
our umbrella on the bare burning mass of limestone. A 
most depressing fever was still hanging about us, and of 
course this helped to give us impressions of that ride, and 
of the dreary road through which we passed, that can 
never be effaced. Some may wonder that in our condition 
we could see the country at all, but the very struggle we 
had to see it made us look with greater interest on every 
spot, endeared the various places, to which we fought our 
way, all the more to our heart, and made impressions all 
the deeper. We lay down on that rock scarcely thinking 
we could ever rise from it again, but it is wonderful what 

s 



274 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



a little rest and the excitement of travel in the Holy Land 
will accomplish. That rock, and the well on the top of 
the hill, will always be one of our Ebenezers — a stone of 
deliverance and of grateful memories. After a brief hour's 
rest we felt revived, and a short ride brought us to Mar 
Saba, one of the most wonderful convents in the world. 
If we should ever have the good fortune to revisit the 
East, we would reverse the route we took to the Dead 
Sea. We would descend from Mar Saba to the "great 
plain," for in this course we would have the unparalleled 
scenery of the Ghor opening up before us, and spreading 
out in all its desolate grandeur. This would be like 
crossing the Col de Balme to Chamouni, to see the glorious 
range of Mont Blanc, a route certainly much to be pre- 
ferred than to cross it from the opposite direction for the 
same purpose. 

A night's rest at Mar Saba set us on our feet again, so 
that we were in the saddle next morning on our way to 
Bethlehem. But this most extraordinary abode of Greek 
monks cannot be so summarily dismissed. It is much 
more difficult to describe this Convent than it is to reach 
its beetling towers from the bottom of the gorge on which 
it stands. We have never seen and never expect to see 
anything like it as a dwelling-place of men. It is named 
after its founder, the distinguished Saint (Mar) Saba, who 
is said to have been born about A.D. 440. Tradition 
affirms that he wandered into many parts of the world 
seeking for the dreariest and wildest spot that could be 
found, where he might spend his life as an ascetic. He 
passed through deserts and gloomy solitudes, but he saw 
no place exactly suited to his taste till he visited the 
fearful chasm formed by the Kedron and by another deep 
ravine. This huge wall of rock, rising abruptly to the 



CONVENT OF MAE SABA. 



275 



height of several hundred feet from the bed of the Kedron, 
and in the midst of as wild and desolate a scene as can 
be seen on the face of the earth, was selected by the saint 
for his solitary dwelling. He found a cave tenanted by a 
lion ; which became his companion for eight years. Others 
affirm that the king of beasts quitted his den at the bid- 
ding of the saint. Be this as it may, the lion's lair was 
the first cell in this establishment, now grown to won- 
derful dimensions. He must have been a man of daring 
courage and enterprise as well as an ascetic, for, before 
his death, all the sides of this rocky gorge were honey- 
combed with caves and grottoes. Some twenty thousand 
devotees, more than the whole population of Jerusalem, 
followed the saint into this dreary wild. In the course of 
time these cave dwellings were covered with solid masonry, 
creeping gradually up the sides of the gorge from base to 
summit, with piers and buttresses of such enormous thick- 
ness that they terminate with domed apartments clinging 
to the rock, like the eyrie of the eagle. Advantage has 
been taken in the lapse of ages of every projecting point 
and cliff on which to place a buttressed cell for a monk, 
or a domed apartment for pilgrims, till the number of 
these "loop-holes of retreat" has become almost incredible. 
You turn into stairs and terraces, narrow passages and 
courts, till you feel utterly bewildered with the vast 
number of stone nests and rock caves, all bound together 
by piers, pillars, and arches, and by heavy" courses of 
mason work, one piece having been added to another dur- 
ing the lapse of fourteen hundred years. It has a much 
more striking appearance than the Convent of Mount 
Sinai, or than any other conventual establishment we 
have ever seen. Our cage-looking apartment was perched 
high up on a cliff, like a swallow's nest, which was about 



276 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



as difficult to reach as we found the brass ball of St. Paul's 
to be some twenty years ago. Divans were spread along 
the sides of the wall, and one of these couches did for a 
bed. How truly thankful we felt when we stretched our 
aching limbs on the soft pallet under the vaulted roof of 
our cage, overhanging the most terrible gorge in Palestine. 
It was a great improvement on the bare rock, and the 
doubtful shade of our umbrella in the broiling glare of the 
fierce sun. Never did we feel the fascination and enchant- 
ment of moonlight so much, as when in the utter stillness 
of that night we looked out from our perch on that wild 
and grotesque scene, rendered all the more weird-like and 
mysterious in the lights and shadows cast upon it by 
the moon's pale beams. The great masses of buttressed 
masonry built into the face of the rock, the massive iron- 
gates, and all the stern features of the place, had more the 
appearance of a vast mountain keep than the residence of 
a few Greek monks. 

Next morning we made an effort to go round the 
convent, no easy task, for so many ascents, and descents, 
turnings, and windings have to be made. Of course, we 
looked into the cave that was formerly the lion's den, 
now built round with solid masonry, and saw the picture 
of St. Saba and the lion. It was hard to tell which was 
the shao-pier and grimmer-looking- of the two. The church 
is decorated all over with "barbaric splendour." After 
we had visited a number of chapels, and passed from one 
turret and cave and court and stair to another, we 
reached the vault containing, it is said, the ghastly skulls 
of some 14,000 monks. A small paved court, near the 
entrance, was littered all over with the various relics of 
the place for sale. Amongst other things, we bought from 
the brothers a heavy beetle-looking club, and handed it 



KOW AT BETHLEHEM. 



277 



to Mohammed, little thinking at the time, that we would 
require so soon to disarm him. 

Bethlehem was our next stage, and curious enough, 
although this was of all places in Palestine the one that 
associated, most of all, the name of our blessed Lord with 
peace on earth, goodwill toward men, it was the scene of a 
violent scuffle, which we feared would end in very serious 
consequences. We can now afford to laugh at the whole 
affair, as we recall it, but there was no laughing at the 
time. There were thi'eatenings loud and deep, angiy 
words and gesticulations — deadly weapons were bran- 
dished aloft, but happily no blood was shed, although the 
work of that day may lead to it some time or other. We 
had ascended the height leading to the town, our way 
lying through patches of corn fields, and over terraces 
covered with vines and olives, and had entered the court 
leading to the " Church of the Nativity," when we ob- 
served our dragoman assume all at once a very haughty 
and imperious air. Laying hold of a massive iron knocker, 
he thundered at the door with all his might, as if he had 
some old grudge to settle, or as if he wished to intimate 
that he was lord of the place. On our way up the hill, he 
told us he did not like the Latin monks, and appeared 
alwa} r s to be on more friendly terms with the brothers 
of the Greek Church. Whatever was the reason, he 
became suddenly very domineering and imperative in all 
his movements, and swaggered about, very much to our 
amusement at first. The violent knocking was met with 
no response, and he was in a towering passion. Seizing 
the knocker again with both hands, he beat at the door, 
till we feared he would beat it in. At last a voice was 
heard from within, to which he replied in the most 
excited manner. The tone of voice on both sides un- 



278 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



mistakably showed very strong feeling, and although we 
could not understand the language employed, yet it was 
very evident that fierce and fiery words now came thick 
and fast from both parties. In the meantime, the monks 
had been mustering their forces inside, and had resolved 
on the measures they would take, for the door was sud- 
denly opened, and a powerful looking man, for a monk, 
confronted the dragoman, and pointing him to the outer 
gate, demanded that he should instantly take his depar- 
ture. This only made matters worse, and when Ibrahim 
was becoming more and more furious, he was seized by 
some half-dozen monks, the turban torn from his head, 
and tossed to the outside. He was fairly overpowered, 
and forcibly ejected from the place, foaming at the mouth, 
and making all the resistance he possibly could. The 
monks secured the gate against his admission. They had 
another powerful enemy, however, to deal with, whose 
presence they had not yet taken into account. Moham- 
med, the young giant from Thebes, who, on entering the 
place, had thrown himself down for a nap, woke up in time 
to see his master hustled out at the door. Springing to his 
feet, he laid hold of the club which we had purchased at 
Mar Saba, and rushed forward to deal a blow that might 
have been deadly. His uplifted arm was stayed by two 
monks, who sprang from behind and wrested the weapon 
from his grasp. He had prodigious strength, and would 
certainly have felled some one to the ground, had he not 
been overpowered by numbers. It required about a dozen 
monks to eject him from the court. Ibrahim, meanwhile, 
had collected all his men on the outside, and whilst they 
kept thundering at the gate, the monks inside were, en- 
joying their victory, in a state of great excitement, like so 
many big boys at school, when they have gained a triumph 



EOW AT BETHLEHEM. 



279 



over the youthful champions of some kindred institution. 
Their gowns, at least, had got rather a severe handling, 
and as they adjusted them on their backs, and looked at 
the wide-mouthed rents here and there, they did so with 
a satisfaction akin to that which the warrior feels when 
speaking about the scars he has received in some glorious 
field of fiVht. A s f or ourselves, we stood for a time rather 
bewildered, and were quite at a loss as to what might be 
the next act in this strange drama. The thundering at 
the gate, meanwhile, was continued with greater violence 
than ever, but this only added to the hilarity of the monks. 
At last one of them came up to us, and explained as best 
he could, in a mixture of Italian, French, and German, that 
all this unseemly strife had arisen from the insufferable 
hauteur of the dragoman, and from his demanding as a 
right, what could only be expected as a matter of grace. 
They had been annoyed with his haughty bearing before, 
and had resolved that on a repetition of the same offence, 
they would submit to it no longer ; hence the resistance 
which they had so successfully made, and which would 
serve them for talk for a long time to come. They most 
courteously led us inside, and kindly attended to all our 
wants, but Ibrahim was denounced in the oft -repeated 
expression, " II rta pas de politesse." 

After resting for two hours, and seeing all the places of 
interest about the building, we wished to take a stroll out- 
side, and visit the Shepherd's Plain — the supposed site of 
their houses — and the grotto of the Virgin. We thought 
the storm was all over, but it was renewed with increased 
fury the moment one of the monks made his appearance 
with us outside the gate. It seemed for a time as if he 
would be torn in pieces ; but he knew Eastern life and 
character far better than we did, and his coolness in the 



280 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



midst of all the hubbub was most astonishing. Nothing 
could have been more out of harmony with all the Scrip- 
ture associations of Bethlehem than .this uproar. It was a 
place we wished to linger over in peace, but instead of this, 
we were suddenly involved in a row to which there seemed 
to be no end. This is but a specimen of the bitter hate 
that still agitates the bosoms of men, and of the strife that 
is in the world on a larger scale, in the wars of nations, 
notwithstanding the mission of the Prince of Peace. At 
last we had to tell the dragoman, that as we felt convinced 
he was first in the fault, and had given provocation, that 
if he did not keep the peace, we would refer the case to 
the British Consul at Jerusalem. This had the desired 
effect, and after all, we got seeing the sights in and around 
the ancient home of David with some degree of quietness. 
No, we can scarcely say this, for no sooner were Ibrahim 
and his noisy attendants silenced, than we were ruthlessly 
set upon by a number of the natives, who seemed to think 
that our only object in visiting the East was to purchase 
relics. If dogged pertinacity, however annoying, merits 
success in this world, the relic merchants of Bethlehem 
deserve to succeed. 

The Grotto of the Nativity, with its gaudy decorations 
of silk and gold, silver and marble, and its sixteen 
brilliant lamps kept constantly burning, was so much 
out of all harmony with the simple and touching state- 
ments of the gospel narrative about the birth of Jesus, 
that we felt disappointed, and inclined to blame ourselves 
at the all but entire absence of thrilling emotion, even 
when looking at the marble slab and the silver star, 
surrounded by the following inscription: — 

Hie de Virgine Maria Jesus Christus Natus Est. 

"Here Jesus Christ was born of the Virgin Mary." 



GEOTTO OF THE NATIVITY. 



281 



The air was heavy with incense fumes, and the glare 
and the glitter of the grotto appeared so incongruous, 
that we were glad to turn our thoughts to the fact itself, 
announced in the simple words of the angel, " Unto you 
is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is 
Christ the Lord !" We thought of the words of our old 
professor, Christopher North, which we heard more than 
once addressed to his students : " Gentlemen, the life of 
Christ has kept the heart of the world warm ever since 
His blessed feet trod our earth." We came out, and looked 
with deeper interest upon the unchanged features of nature 
around us — the hill sides on which David fed his father's 
sheep, and where he drew some of his finest poetic imagery 
for his immortal Psalms from pastoral life — the quiet corn 
fields in which Ruth gleaned, and where Boaz said to 
the reapers, "The Lord be with, you!" and the reapers 
answered, " The Lord bless thee ! " — the plain where the 
shepherds kept watch over their flocks by night, and 
the glory of the Lord shone round about them, and the 
angels' anthem sweetly fell upon the charmed ear of 
night, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, 
goodwill toward men." 

The passing breeze seemed to murmur in our ears the 
touching story of Naomi, who had gone out full from 
this place and had returned empty, leaving behind her the 
graves of all her household in the land of Moab. In spite 
-of all remonstrance, Ruth, the young and fair, would fol- 
low the lonely widow wherever she went. " So they two 
went until they came to Bethlehem. And it came to pass 
when they were come to Bethlehem that all the city was 
moved about them ; and they said, Is this Naomi ? And 
she said unto them, Call me not Naomi, call me Mara: 
for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me." 



282 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



On the evening after leaving Bethlehem we pitched our 
tents at Solomon's Pools, where we had another serenade 
from the bull frogs. The fountain from which these tanks 
are supplied is in the immediate neighbourhood, in a 
vaulted chamber under ground, where the waters issued 
from a cleft in the rock. We were standing at one of 
the chief sources from which the city of Jerusalem was 
supplied with water in the days of Solomon. These pools, 
which now bear his name, were in all probability built by 
his orders and under his inspection. As we stood looking at 
their solid masonry we fancied to ourselves the gay scene 
which, in all likelihood, would be witnessed here when 
this mighty king, after whom they have been called, came 
in state pomp from the capital to open them, as our own 
Queen did at Loch-Katrine a few years ago. These pools, 
three in number, were, doubtless, great works at the time 
they were built ; but they are not to be compared with 
that gigantic undertaking which makes Glasgow the best 
supplied city with water in the kingdom. 

On our way to Hebron, we saw several J ewish families 
travelling in a very primitive fashion. Two boxes made of 
rough deal boards were slung across the back of a donkey, 
one on each side. A mother and a child occupied one of 
these, whilst the juvenile members of the household were 
packed together in the other compartment. The father 
walked by the side of his home circle, thus disposed of, 
just as Joseph is represented as doing in pictures we have 
seen of the night of the holy family into Egypt. 

For a considerable time before reaching this very ancient 
city, we were struck with the amazing fertility of the soil, 
corn and vines growing in great abundance in the brown 
earth in the valley of Eshcol, and on the sloping terraces 
all around. It is still a vine-growing district, as it was 



CAVE OF MACHPELAH. 



283 



long before the days of Joshua, and the gardens and the 
vineyards extend for a long distance beyond the town. 
Before entering it, we visited the famous terebinth tree, 
which received the name of Abraham's Oak, for the "father 
of the faithful" dwelt at Marare the same is Hebron. The 
name of the place is el-Khuhl, "the Friend of God," a desig- 
nation by which Abraham is known amongst the Arabs to 
this day. This was the home of patriarchal piety and worth, 
where the " Friend of God" had his sorrows and his joys, 
and where he earned the noble commendation given to him 
by the Almighty — "For I know him, that he will command 
his children and his household after him, and they shall 
keep the way of the Lord, to do justice and judgment." 
(Genesis xviii. 19.) It is very interesting that the Arabs 
still call the town by the name of this patriarch, whilst 
the tree of enormous girth, in the immediate neighbour- 
hood, is also associated with his name. It was here that 
he sought a grave for the first time in his life that he 
might bury his dead out of his sight. This place will have 
a special interest for the Bible student, as connected with 
the touching incidents recorded in Genesis xxiii, contain- 
ing the first account on record of the purchase of a grave ! 
This was the cave of Machpelah, the last resting place of 
Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Sarah, Rebekah, and Leah. No 
doubt, so far as we are aware, has ever been mooted as to 
the identity of this sacred spot, where the representative 
sires and mothers of the Jewish race lie buried. Hebron 
also occupies a prominent place in the life of David. 
Next to the holy city itself, it is, in the estimation of 
the J ews, the most sacred locality in Palestine. 

After pitching our tents near the Lazaretto, on the hill 
side, opposite the town and commanding a fine view of it y 
we, first of all, directed our steps to the great mosque 



284 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



which covers the oldest grave in the world of which we 
have any account on record. This was the only mosque 
in the East we were not permitted to enter. We could 
only see into it at some distance. A number of fanatical 
Moslems joined hands and formed a line right across one 
of the broad steps. There they stood with scowling looks. 
We did not understand a word of their muttered threats, 
but their fierce looks were enough to warn us back. It 
would have been dangerous, in the face of these excited 
men, and with a crowd of onlookers equally bigoted, to 
have ventured a step farther. We repeated the word 
baksheesh, which had cleared our way in all difficulties, 
even securing for us pieces of the encaustic tiles in the 
Mosque of Omar; but the stern features of the fanatics 
at Hebron never relaxed. This was the only occasion in 
the East when baksheesh failed to clear our way of all 
obstacles. They were neither to be moved by love nor 
money. As we stood on one of the steps leading to the 
mosque we saw, to our left, a wall, probably as old as the 
days of David, with large bevelled stones similar to those 
in the substruction wall of the temple at J erusalem. This 
ancient wall is also a wailing place of the descendants of 
Abraham. An excited crowd began to gather, and we 
reluctantly withdrew to the rising ground at the back of 
the mosque, where we had a much better view of the 
whole building than on the front steps in the midst of a 
fierce crowd. 

We proceeded along the ridge for some distance, and 
very likely over the same ground where Abraham inter- 
ceded so earnestly on behalf of the Cities of the Plain, and 
from which he saw, shortly afterwards, their smoke go up 
as the smoke of a furnace. 

Hebron, with its cupola roofs of white stone, similar to 



HEBRON. 



285 



those of Jerusalem, has a cleanly and substantial look, as 
seen from the plain, or from any of the neighbouring 
heights, but you are sadly disappointed when you get 
amongst its narrow, tortuous dirty lanes, barely sufficient 
to let a man and a camel pass. We had occasion to pur- 
chase a pair of red shoes for one of our mule boys who 
accompanied us from Jaffa, and this led us 'into the shoe 
department of the bazaar. One would have thought that 
such a little matter would have been very easily settled, 
but we had as much difficulty as Abraham had long ago 
in the same place, with a business transaction of a very 
different kind with the sons of Heth. The same thing 
occurred here as at Jaffa. After we had paid for the shoes, 
and left the bazaar, the merchant came running after 
us, and holding out the money he had taken as payment, 
said he had made a mistake. This was very likely to be 
the case, but it set Ibrahim in a towering passion, and 
rather than have any din about it on the streets of that 
old town, consecrated by the name of " friend," we at once 
proceeded to satisfy the seller, as Abraham did the owners 
of the field, with "current money with the merchant," not 
an easy thing to do in some of the old places in the East. 
Our little business transactions did not go smoothly either 
at Jaffa or at Hebron. 

There are several small furnaces for glass blowing, and 
for the manufacture of beads, rings, and other trinkets, 
which are sold at places that are the favourite resort of 
pilgrims. On passing through the narrow streets, on the 
way back to our tents, we came upon a little workshop, 
where two men sat near a fire, working at a variety of glass 
rings, large enough for the wrist, and probably intended 
for bracelets. The moment we entered to see their han- 
dicraft, they stopped work, and clamoured for baksheesh. 



286 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



We made a few purchases of their beautiful but brittle 
wares, thinking that this would satisfy them ; but they 
were far more bent on getting a gratuity than on making 
sales. We tried to brino* home some of the glass ornaments 
of Hebron, but they were broken on the way. The popula- 
tion is said to be about 10,000. The town is well supplied 
with water from two large pools of great depth, and built of 
solid masonry. One of these, at least, is as old as the days 
of David, for we read that he commanded the murderers 
of Saul's son to be hanged near the Pool in Hebron (2 
Sam. iv. 12). 

On our way back to Jerusalem, we passed again the 
pools of Solomon, and went down into the valley of Urtas, 
supposed to be the Etham of Scripture. This has been made 
of late years a truly delightful and fertile spot, by a Chris- 
tian J ew, who has manifested great zeal and enterprise in 
developing the capabilities of the soil in this valley. His 
experiments have shown how very fruitful this land might 
yet become, were it placed under a good government, and 
on a proper system of irrigation. It is said that this 
beautiful green dell enjoyed a large portion of King Solo- 
mon's attention, and was his favourite retreat. It is more 
than likely that the passage in the book of Ecclesiastes has 
a reference to this valley and the neighbouring pools : " I 
made me great works; I builded me houses; I planted me 
vineyards : I made me gardens and orchards, and I planted 
trees in them of all kind of fruits : I made me pools of 
water, to water therewith the wood that bringeth forth 
trees." The hio-h state of cultivation into which the orar- 
dens at Urtas have been brought, may be taken as a token 
for good as to what this land, so long trodden down and 
desolate, may yet become. Such were the thoughts in 
which we were indulging, when we were met with an 



LOCUSTS. 



287 



almost incredible number of locusts on the wing. They 
startled our horses, and fell rattling on our umbrellas like 
hail. They hung over us like a cloud, and for a time dark- 
ened the air, fluttering about us as thick as the flakes in a 
snow storm. We had seen them in the desert in their un- 
fledged state, when for miles they appeared like a running 
stream on either side of our camels; they had now come to 
eat up every green thing, and were about to settle down 
on the lovely gardens of Urtas. We left that green spot 
blooming like a little paradise ; in a day or two afterwards 
there was scarcely a green leaf to be seen. During our 
second visit to Jerusalem, we found them everywhere. 
Sometimes they hung above the city, darkening the air ; 
they clung to the walls, they fell on the roofs of the houses, 
from which they could be swept in thousands; and on the 
Mount of Olives, they were littered all over the branches 
of every green tree, which would be speedily left as leafless 
as if they had been struck by the frosts of winter. The 
people were in great distress and alarm, for the devasta- 
tion occasioned by this terrible scourge was raising the 
provisions to a famine price. It was pitiful to see the poor 
inhabitants in some of the villages through which we 
passed, wringing their hands, and rending the air at times 
with piercing cries, mingled with ever}^ sort of noise, pro- 
duced by all the iron vessels and instruments they 
could command, in order to drive the locusts away. 
Sometimes we found the peasants burning damp straw, in 
the hope that their enemies might be scared away by the 
smoke. Some of the women and children were striking 
the bushes with sticks, but all these expedients only suc- 
ceeded for a little, during which the cloud would disperse 
to a short distance, and then descend again to eat up every 
green thing. All this was a striking illustration of the 



288 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



words of the prophet — " The land is as the garden of 
Eden before them, and behind them a desolate wilder- 
ness ; yea, and nothing shall escape them. The appear- 
ance of them is as the appearance of horses ; and as 
horsemen, so shall they run. Like the noise of chariots 
on the tops of mountains shall they leap, like the noise of 
a flame of fire that devoureth the stubble, as a strong 
people set in battle array. Before their face, the people 
shall be much pained; all faces shall gather blackness. 
They shall run like mighty men ; they shall climb the wall 
like men of war, and they shall march every one on his 
ways, and they shall not break their ranks. . . . They 
shall run to and fro in the city ; they shall run upon the 
wall ; they shall climb up upon the houses ; they shall 
enter in at the windows like a thief." 

They are looked upon by the people of Syria as a 
judgment, as one of the sorest inflictions that can befall 
them ; and certainly they are a terrible scourge, but by a 
merciful arrangement of Providence they are checked, or 
the land would be made utterly desolate. On the other 
hand, in central Arabia, the visitation of locusts is regarded 
as quite a merciful Godsend ; and the Arabs there regard 
them pretty much in the same way as our fishermen look 
upon a great take of fish. No fisherman ever rushed 
with greater eagerness on a shoal of herrings than do the 
Arabs in Central Arabia on a shoal of locusts. They eat 
them as a choice delicacy ; they bundle them up in every 
spare part of their dress, and having eaten as many as 
they can, preserve the rest for future use. It may be said 
in behalf of these destructive creatures that they act as 
scavengers of nature, and, like storms, may serve in the 
long run a beneficent purpose. We never tried to eat one 
— had we done so we would certainly have had another 



RETURN TO BETHLEHE3L 



289 



proof of the truth of the adage, "one man's meat is another 
man's poison." 

On our return to Bethlehem, Ibrahim was foolish enough 
to renew the old grudge, and we were obliged again to inter- 
pose. He was kept in check, but said something about 
taking his own time. On this occasion we had a quiet look 
at Bethlehem and the surrounding country from the roof of 
an English-looking house occupied by a German, who is 
doing a good work amongst the young in connection with 
some Missionary Society in Prussia. It was very pleasant 
to hear the children singing a hymn about the birth of 
Christ, near the very spot where He was born, with the 
shepherd's plain and the hills once bright with the glory 
of the Lord hung before them — 

* 4 Shepherds, in the field abiding, 

Watching o'er yonr flocks by night, 
God with man is now residing, 
Yonder shines the infant -light — 

Come and worship; 
Worship Christ, the new-born King." 

We fondly lingered in the retired walks, and quiet corn- 
fields and o-ardens about Bethlehem, thinkino; once more 
about Ruth. It did not require any great stretch of fancy 
to see her gleaning in these fields, and wending; her wav 
homewards at sunset to cheer the heart of Naomi with the 
fruit of her labours, and the daily tidings of the wondrous 
kin dness of Boaz, which ripened into the purest love. All 
Scripture associations belonging to this place are over- 
shadowed by the world's greatest event, the birth of our 
Lord. This could not be absent from our thoughts, and 
the hymn of childhood came gushing up afresh — 

' 1 While humble shepherds watch" d their flocks 
In Bethlehem's plains by night, 
An angel, sent from heaven, appeared, 
And filled the plains with light." 

T 



290 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



Tekoa, the birthplace of Amos, was pointed out to us at 
some distance, and also the Cave of Adullam. We thought 
of the wanderings and hair-breadth escapes of David, and 
the shelter which this cave afforded to the motley groups 
that followed him, but had not the least idea at the time 
that "Adullam" and "Adullamites" were words so frequently 
applied in the newspapers, as designating a certain line of 
political conduct, in connection with recent measures of 
parliamentary reform. No political news had reached us 
from home for a long time, and when we got back, we 
were surprised to hear the new meaning which was 
attached to this famous cave. 

We drew water from the well of David, said to be the 
one from which he longed to drink, when he was thirsty 
from the sore heat of battle, " Oh that one would give me 
drink of the water of the well of Bethlehem, which is by 
the gate !" Three of his mighty men brake through the 
hosts of the Philistines, and drew water out of the well, 
but their chief would not drink of it, for it had been 
procured at the risk of life. 

As we proceeded quietly along the hill sides leading 
down from Bethlehem, Ibrahim was determined to have 
the last word with, or about, the monks, for on turning 
round, we saw him look up to the convent and mutter 
some angry threats. Alas ! for the petty grudges of earth ! 
We went on repeating the words of the noble aspiration — 

" Then let us pray that come it may — 
As come it will for a' that . . . 
That man to man, the world o'er, 
Shall brothers be for a' that ! " 

A short ride brought us to the tomb of Rachel, which 
is still an object of great veneration to the Moslem as 
well as to the Jew, especially to the latter. The tender 



RACHEL'S TOMB. 



291 



devotion of Jacob to Rachel is certainly one redeeming 
feature in his life ; and as we stood at the dome-shaped 
tomb, we thought of that love as one of earth's most beau- 
tiful things, which made fourteen years' service seem but 
a few days, and of the old man's great sorrow when, on his 
death bed, there was nothing that rose up from the dim 
past, and was so vividly present to his mind, as that sad 
event which brought him Benjamin, but removed from 
him the light of his eyes. With what tearful interest we 
read his touching words addressed to Rachel's first born 
son — "And as for me, when I came- from Padan, Rachel 
died by me in the land of Canaan in the way, when yet 
there was but a little way to come unto Ephrath : and I 
buried her there in the way of Ephrath; the same is 
Bethlehem." The tomb is still literally in the way, and 
many a heart must have been deeply touched at the sight 
of it, and filled with tender holy thoughts of loved ones 
now no more. It speaks to the heart of a love that will 
ever be fresh as the budding spring time, and of a deep 
sorrow (Benoni, the son of my sorrow) like the wail of the 
winter wind sighing amongst the trees. That tomb, and 
the touching story with which it is connected, appealed 
to all the better feelings of our nature. We left it with a 
strange sadness in our hearts, as if the shadow of death 
had suddenly fallen upon us, and we thought of the warm 
pressure of hands we would never feel again, and of the 
old familiar faces we would never meet any more on 
earth. We could enter into Jacob's grief; our parting 
words at the tomb of his beloved Rachel were these : — 

' ' Oh for the touch of a vanished hand, 
And the sound of a voice that is still ! " 

On our return to Jerusalem we spent a few days linger- 
ing about the more special places of interest, sauntering 



292 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLT LAND. 



about the valley of Jehoshaphat, and gazing for hours 
from the Mount of Olives upon that remarkable view of 
the city — its surrounding heights on the one hand, and 
the "wilderness of Judea, the Dead Sea, and the plain of 
the Jordan, On the other. Any enthusiastic visitor of the 
Holy Land must feel it to be a very grievous trial when 
attacked with Syrian fever, or some other disease of the 
country, which prevents him from visiting places of great 
interest that he has not yet seen, and to see which was 
one special object of his long journey from a far country. 
This painful arrest was laid on not a few in the spring 
and summer of 1866 — in some cases it was the still more 
painful arrest of death. How anxiously we pled with Dr. 
Chaplin for the J ordan and the Dead Sea, and it was with 
great reluctance that he gave his consent that we should 
start for this on Monday, the 14th May. The author of 
" The Land and the Book," who has been long resident in 
the country, visited the Ghor towards the end of April, 
and admits that he was about a month, even then, too 
late. In our case the doctor had but too good reason to 
express his fears and urge them strongly. It was with un- 
feigned joy he saw us return to the city from our journey 
to the Dead Sea ; but he insisted more strenuously than 
ever that we should not go to Nazareth by Nablous. The 
matter hung fire for a few days, we pleading most earnestly 
for Samaria, Shechem, Jacob's Well, and Mount Gerizim, 
etc. The good doctor was not to be moved from his point; 
we thought it very hard at the time, but he was quite 
inexorable ; so it was decided, after a pretty keen contest, 
that — for that time at least — we must have "no dealings 
with the Samaritans." In place of Samaria a very agree- 
able and interesting route was fixed upon, which would 
take us to the sea and give us the benefit of a thorough 



FAKEWELL TO JERUSALEM. 



293 



change of air. It was agreed that we should go back to 
Jaffa, take a steamer to Haifa, at the foot of Mount Carinel, 
stay a few days at the Convent, and then proceed to 
Nazareth, the Sea of Galilee, and other places of interest, 
as far as time and other circumstances would permit. It 
was the best thing that could be done. If we missed 
Samaria, for which we were truly sorry, we gained a few 
days on the top of Mount Carmel, and were brought into 
more immediate contact with the shores of the great sea, 
at many points of undying interest. 

The last place we visited before leaving the city was the 
Armenian Convent, from the roof of which we had an 
extensive view. There was a comfortable well-to-do 
appearance about everything we saw in the convent and 
the church, and, above all, in the houses of the deaconesses, 
or Sisters of Mercy, who occupy a part of the building. 
With the exception of a few particulars as to dress, they 
reminded us very forcibly of stout, good-looking matrons 
in our own country. The guide took us into one of their 
houses. It consisted of two apartments, plainly furnished, 
but very clean and tidy — the picture of perfect neatness. 
The Sister was busily engaged in embroidering a veil, in- 
tended to be worn by a bride on her marriage day. She 
showed us several of the sanie kind, all finished in a very 
superior style of workmanship. Of all sects of Eastern 
Christians we preferred the Armenians, aud we heard from 
various quarters that there are hopeful signs of an awaken- 
ing amongst them. Whatever may be their views as to 
another world, they certainly try to make the most of this. 

Having made all our arrangements for leaving the city, 
we rode out at the J afifa Gate, which we had entered for 
the first time three weeks before. What weeks of intense 
and thrilling interest these had been to us! They were 



294 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



an experience, a memory, an education for life. These 
terms may seem rather exaggerated for some, but they 
really fail to express all the advantages which may be 
derived from a visit to the Holy Land. Our feelings on 
leaving the city were of a different kind from those we 
experienced when we got our first sight of it, but not 
the less intense. 

It is more than a memory; it is a new life, as it were, to 
have lived even for a few weeks in that city, around which 
so many hallowed associations cluster, The city to which 
the tribes went up — where the temple stood in all its glory 
— the city of the Great King — the joy of the whole earth — 
the scene of the greatest events — the centre of the mightiest 
influences for good that have gone out from any part of 
the world to bless mankind — where apostles and prophets 
taught — and where the Son of the Highest lived and 
laboured, suffered and died. ' On taking our last look of 
the grey walls, it was like parting with a friend whom you 
are about to leave behind in the depths of some great 
sorrow which you cannot relieve, and which throws a 
shadow over your own path wherever you go. We de- 
scended into the valley; the last corner of the walls 
disappeared, the city faded from our view. Our feelings 
were expressed in the words — "How long, Lord, how 
long ? Remember Thine ancient people, still beloved for 
the father s sake." " Look down from heaven, and behold 
from the habitation of Thy holiness and Thy glory." 
" Return, we beseech Thee, O God of hosts : look down 
from heaven, and behold, and visit the vine ; and the 
vineyard which Thy right hand hath planted, and the 
branch that Thou madest strong for Thyself." 



CHAPTER XIII. 

BAD ROADS — ABOU GOOSH OK, KIRJATH-JEARIM — BIRTHPLACE OF THE 
PENITENT THIEF — CONVENT OF RAMLEH — MOSLEM CALLS TO PRAYER 
— JAFFA AGAIN — C^SAREA — HAIFA — STRANGE QUARTERS — CONVENT 
OF MOUNT CARMEL — SITE OF ELIJAH'S SACRIFICE — FORD OF KISHON 
— NAZARETH — MOUNTAIN HOME OF JESUS — HIS CHILDHOOD AND 
YOUTH — CARPENTER'S WORKSHOP — MAGNIFICENT PANORAMA — 
MEMORABLE ACCIDENT — FESTIVAL OF CORPUS CHRISTI — TAWDRY 
PROCESSION — YOUNG ARAB CHIEF — BENI SAKAR AND ADOUAN 
TRIBES— TURKISH MISRULE — MISSIONARY EFFORTS AT NAZARETH — 
WRETCHED PEASANTRY — LAKE OF GALILEE — TIBERIAS— CHOLERA — 
SAIL TO TELL HUM — RUINS OF CAPERNAUM— ON TO SCHEFF AMAR — 
ACKE — PROCESSIONS — QUEER CONSUL — BRITISH TARS — BEYROUT — MRS. 
THOMSON'S BRITISH SYRIAN SCHOOLS. 

. 

OTH1NG, perhaps, in Palestine strikes a stranger . 
more at first than the wretched condition of 
the roads. There is not a mountain bridle path 
in the wildest Highland parish or glen, more 
rugged and desolate than the thoroughfares, if they can 
be called by this name, in the immediate neighbourhood of 
Jerusalem — the road for instance to Abou Goosh. It is 
not much better than the difficult mountain track in the 
pass of Bethhoron. We dropped down into a valley, over 
smooth slippery stones, and passed a village with a euphon- 
ious Roman name, Colonia. The ruins scattered about it 
have a fortress-like appearance, but the very name and 
object of these are unknown. This is supposed by some to 




296 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



be the Emmaus of Scripture. We passed it towards even- 
ing, and thought of that blessed interview which the two 
disciples had with their risen Lord, when they constrained 
the mysterious stranger, as yet unknown to them, to turn 
aside and tarry for the night. It was dark before we 
reached Abou Goosh, a village which bears the name of 
a noted chief, who for a long time set the whole autho- 
rities at Constantinople at defiance, and was the terror 
of all who passed through the district, which he regarded 
as his own by hereditary right. There can be no doubt 
that this was the ancient Kirjath-jearim, where the ark 
was kept for a long time, and from which it was brought 
up by David to Jerusalem, in the midst of joyous multi- 
tudes, who must have gone up to the city on the very 
track which we followed. It was very interesting that 
night to read in our tent, pitched not far from the spot 
where the ark was lodged in the house of Obed-edom on the 
hill, 1 Chron. xiii., giving an account of the joyful occasion 
when it was removed. There was a new interest thrown 
around Psalm cxxxii; for Kirjath-jearim, the ancient 
name of this place, signified the "city of forests," and the 
minstrel King of Israel in that sacred ode, expresses his 
earnest desire to build an appropriate shrine for the ark 
of the covenant — " Surely I will not come into the taber- 
nacle of my house, nor go up into my bed ; I will not give 
sleep to mine eyes, or slumber to mine eyelids, until I 
find out a place for the Lord, an habitation for the mighty 
God of Jacob." The following words were as deeply inte- 
resting in connection with the ancient name of the place, 
"city of forests:" "Lo, we heard of it at Ephratah" (his 
native place, Bethlehem), "we found it in the fields of 
the wood" This is a very singular coincidence, and is 
a strong confirmation of all that has been advanced in 



MOSLEM CALLS TO PEAYEE. 



297 



"behalf of this plain being the site of the present " city 
of forests." 

We passed the village of Latrun, or Modin, the birth 
place of the patriot brothers, the Maccabees, who flashed 
a sudden glory over their country by the victories which 
they achieved on the heights and glens and passes around 
their mountain home. How strange it is that instead of 
their name having been given to the place of their nati- 
vity, it should now be called Latrun, " thief," or " den of 
thieves," because this is supposed to have been the birth- 
place of a very different man from any of the patriot 
brothers — Disnia, the penitent thief! Next morning, we 
found the road which we had to follow for about two 
hours, provokingiy bad ; but this was nothing, compared 
with the sad havoc the locusts were making on every 
green thing in the country. By and by, the road became 
as smooth as a fine lawn, and we cantered merrily along 
to the convent of Ramleh, where we spent a night. We 
owe that place a grudge, for what with the incessant 
barking of dogs, the shouting of a muezzin on the minaret 
of an adjoining mosque, and the pains in the limbs which 
accompany Syrian fever, we never slept. The muezzin 
had a most powerful, but not an unmusical voice, and 
could be heard far beyond the town, calling the faithful to 
prayer. Four times were his calls repeated, from the 
afternoon on which we entered till nine next morning, 
when we left. 

It may be interesting to some of our readers to know 
what these calls are, which are repeated five times every 
day — at day-break, noon, afternoon, sunset, and after dark. 
In the stillness of the night, the voice of the muezzin, 
which he strains to the very utmost in calling to prayer, 
has a very striking effect. Lane in his " Modern Egyp- 



298 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



tians," gives these calls to prayer as follows : — Having 
ascended to the gallery of the minaret, the muezzin repeats 
the words, " God is most Great," (this is said four times) 
" I testify that there is no deity but God," (twice) " I 
testify that Mohamed is God's apostle," (twice) " Come to 
prayer," (twice) " Come to security," (twice) "God is most 
Great," (twice) " There is no deity but God." Blind men 
are preferred for this office, so that the hareems may not 
be overlooked from the minarets. The morning call to 
prayer is always introduced by the words, " Prayer is 
better than sleep." 

Next morning we were in the saddle early, and had a 
fine ride along the smooth, sandy plain, to Jaffa. More 
than once we dismounted at a small cafe on the way, 
formed by a few upright sticks, with straw matting and 
branches of trees twisted on the roof. These little wayside 
inns afforded a pleasant rest, and a cooling shade ; and the 
small cup of coffee, as thick as a syrup, was always a re- 
freshing beverage. We rode again through the pleasant 
orange groves and gardens of Jaffa, and as we passed 
through the sheds and booths in the market place, we 
were gladly recognised by a few old friends whose fruit- 
stalls we had patronised during our former visit. Our 
horses, mules, and attendants were all sent forward along 
the coast, to meet us on a given day at Haifa. We went 
in again at the Jerusalem Gate with the Saracenic arch 
and fountain — bored our way through the dark tunnels of 
streets to the slit in the wall leading to the sea, and in a 
few minutes we were dashing through the narrow opening 
in the rugged fringe of reef to reach the "Africa," which 
had just let off her steam about a mile from the shore. 
Many Syrian females were on board, and . a large part of 
the deck was partitioned and screened off for their special 



HAIFA. 



299 



use, according to the custom in the East. As we proceeded 
along the coast, various Bible localities were pointed out, 
but none had so much interest for us as the site of ancient 
Caesarea, a magnificent city in the days of Paul, on the 
streets of which 20.000 Jews were mercilesslv slaughtered, 
and where Vespasian was declared Emperor. It is now a vast 
heap of ruins. As we passed these we thought of the mid- 
night ride of Paid from J erusalem to this famous old city, 
escorted by a large body of soldiers, when more than forty 
of his countrymen had bound themselves by an oath to 
take away his life. It was here that Felix trembled when 
Paul reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment 
to come: and it was here that the Apostle endured a long 
imprisonment, and at last appealed to Caesar. Shortly 
after nine o'clock in the evening Ave reached the road- 
stead of Haifa, and lay about half-a-mile from the shore. 
Several boats came alono-side. and we o-ot into one of these; 
but as there was no landing stage, or anything even 
approaching the rudest attempt at such a thing, two stout 
fellows, standing up to the middle in water, crossed their 
arms and laid hold of each other's hands, and urged us to 
take the benefit of this sedan chair. Throwing out arms 
round their necks we were carried in triumph to the Ian J. 
There was no lack of brawny arms, and in this way all 
who were bound for Haifa were brought to shore. It was 
beautiful moonlight, and all the village had turned out to 
witness what is the great event of the place, and which, 
probably happens, in favourable seasons, about once in the 
course of a few weeks — a steamer in the offing, with goods 
and passengers to be taken off in the boats. It was quite 
a picturesque sight ; the villagers, among whom were many 
women in their white coverings, stood or sat on every 
available bit of rock that fringed the beach. 



300 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



It was our intention to sleep at the Convent that night, 
but we were too late ; we had heard so much about the 
watchmen of that establishment, the dogs, who were never 
kept on chain, and who were represented as exceeding 
fierce, that we had no wish to encounter them after night- 
fall, and when the place was shut up. There is no hotel 
in Haifa, and our tents and other necessary equipments of 
camp life were left at Jaffa, to follow us in a day or two. 
"We stood by the shore enjoying the scene whilst our friends, 
went to the village in quest of accommodation; but having 
done their best at this for nearly an hour they returned 
without success. At last an empty house was got, which 
we were told was being made ready for some church 
dignitary from Nazareth. It had, evidently, the appear- 
ance of being cleaned out for somebody, for the passages, 
stairs, and floors, were all over with splashes of white- 
washing, which had been done that day. There were 
marks everywhere of such a cleansing process that we 
concluded there must be many fewer inmates of a certain 
kind in the house than before the domestic revolution 
began — a consideration so important, that we at once 
decided to fix our quarters for the night in this empty 
house ; shake-downs were provided — where they came from 
we never knew — and coffee was prepared at some neigh- 
bouring fire. A mat was spread on the floor, and we 
partook of our evening meal in Turkish fashion. We were 
under the shadow of Mount Carmel, so we gathered around 
our glimmering lights and read about the great Elijah, 
whose piety and patriotism have given an undying glory 
to this place, and to the age in which he lived. Our 
apartment was without window frames, and of course there 
was not a single pane of glass between us and the open air. 
This was rather an advantage than otherwise, for the heat 



CONVENT OF MOUNT CARMEL. 



301 



was great. The moonlight was streaming in, making even 
the ricketty walls and houses of the old town, which is said 
to be the ancient Sycaminium, appear beautiful. Seldom 
do the moon's pale beams fall on a more dilapidated or 
dirty place. We saw very little glass about it, although 
tradition has fixed upon a spot in the neighbourhood as 
the first place where glass was made. But a truce to all 
complaining, we have good reason to remember Haifa very 
gratefully, for a sound sleep after many restless nights on 
account of fever and fleas. The scrubbing and white- 
washing of our strange dormitory, on the previous day, 
had banished the one, and the sea air had greatly improved 
the other. Dr. Chaplin was right. Our sail of seven 
hours had acted as a charm, and that night we turned a 
new leaf. Poor as our quarters were, we certainly fared 
much better than Mr. Tristram and his party did on their 
memorable visit to Haifa some few years ago. They had 
pitched their tents in what seemed a very eligible spot, 
but the rain fell heavily, and long before daybreak they 
were washed out of their beds, and when they awoke 
found, to their horror, everything afloat. The inviting 
spot of the previous night was now a rapid stream rushing 
to the sea, and nearly sweeping away the tents. 

Next morning we had a donkey ride (the first since 
leaving Cairo) up the steep ascent to the convent, a large 
square building, with a cupola in the centre, most pictu- 
resquely situated on a noble looking promontory, which 
is of itself quite worthy of the name, " the excellency of 
Carmel." The weary traveller will feel inclined to trans- 
fer this appellation to the excellent accommodation that is 
to be found in the convent itself, which, with its airy, clean 
apartments, and its cheerful look out to the sea, is really 
a charming retreat. We truly felt it to be so, and during 



302 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



our three days' stay there, our favourite seat was under the 
shadow of a tree, overlooking the bluff promontoiy, with 
the blue waters of the Mediterranean sparkling at its base. 
Locking from our elevation, the ridge seemed to drop down 
into the sea, but there is a broad sweep of shady beach, 
which has been for ages the highway for great armies, or 
for immense caravans going to, or coming from, the desert. 
We spent a delightful Sabbath under that tree, reading 
with deeper interest than ever the life of Elijah. The 
place of his sacrifice is about six hours' ride distant from 
the convent, and is marked by the ruins of a quadrangular 
building of large hewn stones on a terrace of natural rock, 
looking into the plain of Esdraelon. The tide of battle 
has often rolled over that plain, but the spot on which the 
altar of Elijah stood was the scene of a conflict between 
truth and error, mightier far in its issues than any battle 
ever fought on the plain below. There is no site in Pale- 
stine more surely identified than the Muhrakha, the scene 
of Elijah's sacrifice. History has not left on record another 
instance in which any man occupied a more awful posi- 
tion than the prophet did at this spot, on the memorable 
day when he boldly confronted and challenged the priests 
of Baal, all the power of Ahab and his wicked queen, and 
where he made the solemn appeal to the God of Israel to 
vindicate his cause by fire. Take it all in all, there have 
been few more important days in the history of the world, 
for the interests of truth, than that on which the prophet, 
the king, the priests of Baa], and the thousands of Israel 
were assembled around this spot. It was a transaction 
which could not be hid — it was done in the eyes of all the 
people — a contest on which mighty interests were staked ; 
and the test, perhaps, was quite unprecedented, " the God 
that answereth by fire, let him be God." The site was one 



scene of Elijah's sacrifice. 



303 



of the most commanding, and the position assumed by the 
prophet was one of unparalleled moral sublimity. An 
ancient spring still exists at the place, from which, in all 
likelihood, the trench about the altar was filled with 
water. In the hollow where the altar stood, a shoulder of 
the ridge shuts out the sea from the view, and it was to 
this height that the prophet sent his servant with the 
request — "look towards the sea." The man of God throws 
himself upon the earth in earnest prayer; the Almighty 
had answered by fire, will He again be entreated to an- 
swer by rain % The servant comes back till the seventh 
time, with the answer — " There is nothing ! " But at the 
seventh time he brings the glad tidings, — " Behold, there 
ariseth a< little cloud out of the sea like a man's hand." 
Earth has/few places more full of sacred interest than the 
spot on Carmel, hallowed by Elijah's sacrifice, and by his 
earnest prayers. 

Early on Sabbath morning, we were present at the 
service in the church, and, at the close of it, were shown 
Elijah's cave under the altar, where tradition affirms he 
hid himself from the persecutions of Jezebel. It is at 
least creditable to the good sense of the Carmelites that 
they have not attempted to transfer the scene of the 
sacrifice to this place, but have permitted it to remain 
undisturbed on the site which, as far as we know, has 
never been disputed. 

On our way to Nazareth, we crossed the Kishon, and 
had little difficulty in doing so, for we found it a sluggish 
muddy stream, with no pretension at the time to be a 
river at all. We remembered the words of Deborah when 
she celebrated the victory which Barak had achieved over 
the hosts of Sisera : "The stars in their courses fought 
against Sisera. The river of Kishon swept them away, that 



304 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



ancient river, the river Kishon." There was very little 
sweeping power in that stream when we saw it, but at 
certain seasons it rises to a great height, not merely from 
the rains, but from a ground current flowing from the sea, 
when a westerly gale sweeps round the base of Carmel. 
The waters of the Kishon are driven back, and as a sand 
drift rapidly chokes up the mouth of the river, it becomes 
suddenly very deep and dangerous, its channel being filled 
up both from above and below. It is frequently seen in 
such a flooded condition, and then it cannot fail to present 
a formidable obstacle to a retreating army. 

One great pleasure in travelling in the Holy Land is, 
the fresh interest that is excited by every new locality, 
from the sacred associations connected with it. We pressed 
forward to Nazareth with as deep longing as we did to 
Jerusalem a month ago. An outer network of gardens, 
vines, and olives, announced to us the vicinity of a village 
or a town. This lay on the farther side of a sloping ridge 
which we had to cross, and we were literally on the top 
of Nazareth before we saw it. The surrounding hills form 
a wide hollow or basin, and the mountain home of Jesus 
nestles on the slopes and spreads away down towards the 
bottom. The houses cling to the sides of that rocky dell 
like swallow's nests under the eaves. In coming down 
the narrow zigzag streets we often found ourselves stand- 
ing on the roof of a house built into the abrupt declivity. 
The hills that surround the town reminded us of the "dowie 
dens of Yarrow," or of the uplands about Sanquhar, with 
this difference, that there was not so much soft greenness 
about the Galilean hills when we saw them, for they were 
parched and withered-looking with the heat. We rode 
down the sides of the basin through the narrow streets (not 
easily done in some places) and were glad to find the marks 



NAZAKETH. 



305 



of a thriving town, the houses built of stone, and rapidly 
increasing. The population is now estimated at about six 
thousand. Those who profess the Christian religion form 
the great majority ; this may be assumed as one reason 
for the prosperity of Nazareth, for wherever a Christian 
population predominates in village or town in Syria, there 
are certain signs of thriving and progress. When passing 
through the streets, we observed at once an air of greater 
freedom and independence about the young people and 
the women. The juveniles had a dash of the humorous, 
and a buoyancy of spirits about them, which we had not 
seen elsewhere; and the women seemed to be much less 
under restraint, judging from their free and easy move- 
ments going to and from the well, and the gossip in which 
they indulged at that favourite gathering place. It is a 
country town, with all the Eastern trades required by a 
rustic population. We found excellent quarters at the 
Latin Convent, and there was nothing in the whole of our 
journey that we enjoyed more than to sit at night on the 
balcony in the unclouded splendour of the full moon, and 
look upon the hill sides, ravines, and glens, all embraced 
in that small basin, and still the same as when He was a 
boy. The town may have changed its position since His 
day, but all the external features of His mountain home 
remain unchanged. There was no place in Palestine that 
brought the daily scenes and experiences of our blessed 
Lord nearer us than the hills of Nazareth, and the town 
itself clinging to the sides of these. Bethlehem had its 
peculiar recollections connected with His birth. Jerusalem 
had very much of thrilling interest associated with His 
brief, beautiful, blissful ministry, and with the closing 
scenes of that wondrous life of love. Bethany was conse- 
crated by the ties of a tender friendship; but Nazareth was 

u 



306 



THE DESEET AKD THE HOLY LAKD. 



intertwined more intimately, and for a longer period, with 
the daily life of our Lord. So far as we know, He spent 
nearly thirty years in this mountain home; and there was 
something in the look of the hills, in the whole aspect 
and life of the place, that brought the Divine Man nearer 
our hearts and our own experience than any other spot 
we visited. Jerusalem has its stirring histories apart alto- 
gether from that life, and these in themselves can never 
fail to make that city famous ; but Nazareth derives all 
its importance, history, fame, and attractions from this life 
alone, which still seems to quicken the very air, to breathe 
around the hills, to stir in the very streets ; in short, it is 
revived not merely as a picture on the page of the Gospel 
narrative, but as an actual reality again moving before you 
in wondrous beauty. The fountain at the lower end of the 
village, called after the Virgin, was, doubtless, the well from 
which she brought her daily supply of water, just as we 
saw the young women of the place doing from day to day 
during our visit, showing a remarkable grace of form as 
they passed, balancing with their two hands the long- 
necked pitchers on their heads. We saw many faces that 
reminded us of pictures of the Madonna. Not a few 
young mothers were accompanied b}^ their children, just 
as the child Jesus oftentimes came with Mary to this very 
well, where He met with the children of the place, and 
washed His feet along with them in the surplus water, as 
we saw many youngsters do with great delight. You see 
Him pass through all the stages of childhood, youth, and 
manhood, in this place. What a quiet thoughtfulness, — 
what a strange mystery, — what a divine composure must 
have been in that childhood! You see Him as a youth 
acquiring the humble occupation of Joseph, and following 
him, as occasion demanded, into the quiet homesteads and 



MOUNTAIN HOME OF JESUS. 



307 



villages of the district to aid the Syrian carpenter, when 
this and the other article connected with household use, 
or with out-door labour, required to be repaired. Often did 
we hang over the balcony of the convent and look into a 
little workshop right before us, combining the two occu- 
pations of a country smith and carpenter. All kinds of 
rude, rustic instruments were brought to be repaired, and 
quite a rare medley of country jobbing in wood and iron 
was done in that quaint little workshop. It was a sight 
that had great interest for us ; it linked us to the far past, 
and to the work-a-day life of the world's greatest Man, as 
we heard the ring of the anvil mingled at times with the 
rasping of the saw, and witnessed the town's people 
bringing boxes to be mended, or the fellaheen their rough 
implements of field labour. We thought that it was just 
such a workshop as that in which the Divine Workman — 
the Lord of life and glory — dignified human toil by labour- 
ing with His own hands, thus showing us how every 
department of life and labour may be pervaded by His 
own spirit of goodness. 

There are bye-lanes, and mountain tracks, and sheep 
walks, and quiet country roads, all round Nazareth; bridle 
paths that wind over the hills. All these had a peculiar 
charm for us, for we felt assured that over these very bye- 
ways walked those blessed feet 

" Which, eighteen hundred years ago, were nailed 
For our advantage to the bitter cross." 

The whole district must always have been a place for 
quiet, solitary musing, most grateful to a contemplative 
spirit; and here, for thirty years, did our Saviour live 
among these uplands, walking at early mom or dewy 
eve on the sloping sides of this dingle, or at dawn by 
the green dell, or through the deep ravine, or over these 



308 THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 

lovely mountain tracks leading up to yonder summit, 
and doubtless gazing with rapture on these very scenes 
that filled our soul with delight, moving amongst men, 
women, and working people just such as we met in that 
town from day to day. 

On our way to a neighbouring height, in company with 
the Rev. Mr. Zeller, the resident missionary in connection 
with the Church of England— a highly accomplished gen- 
tleman, who showed us no small kindness — we passed the 
precipice from which the enraged inhabitants of Nazareth 
sought to cast our Lord down on that memorable day 
when He appeared as the world's greatest teacher in their 
synagogue. Mr. Zeller, who has long been a resident in 
this place, is quite of opinion that this rocky cliff is the 
scene of that attempt upon the life of Jesus ; and he sees 
no occasion whatever for resorting to a precipice at a con- 
siderable distance from the modern town. We reached 
the summit of that hill, and the impression of the view 
we got from it can never be effaced from our memory. 
On that very height the Saviour of mankind, doubtless, 
gazed on the same grand features in that landscape — on 
the Great Sea, on the long ridge of Carmel stretching 
down to it, and ending abruptly in a bold promontory; 
on the Great Hermon, crowned with snow, — the Mont 
Blanc of Palestine ; on the Little Hermon, with the 
village of Nain nestling at its feet; on the isolated and 
dome-shaped hill of Tabor; on Gilboa, where Saul and 
Jonathan were slain in the "high places;" on the broad 
winding sweep of Esdraelon ; and on all the heights that 
cluster around His mountain home, and which were all 
familiar as household words and faces to the heart of 
His childhood and His youth. We have every reason to 
remember our visit to that hill-top, and the magnificent 



TAWDKY PROCESSION. 



309 



view we obtained from it. Mr. Zeller rode a beautiful 
Arab mare, a fleet aud fiery creature when put to her 
mettle. We were mounted on one of the common travel- 
ling hacks of the country, and felt surprised, and some- 
times annoyed, that the missionary kept so far a-head of 
us. He had a reason for this, but we did not know it till 
it was too late. On approaching him to put a question 
regarding some point in the scenery, we had no sooner 
come within reach of his mare than she struck out like 
lightning, and our poor knee received the full force of the 
blow, which stunned us for a time, and nearly sent us 
reeling over the back of our cob. Happily she was unshod, 
or this accident would have been attended with more 
serious consequences. It was such, however, that we will 
bear the marks of it as long as we live — rather a rough 
way of intensifying our recollections of a ride, which, in 
itself, was quite sufficient to be a memory for life. 

During our stay at Nazareth, it happened to be the 
festival of Corpus Christi ; and the Church of the Annun- 
ciation, built, it is said, over the place where the mystery 
of the incarnation was revealed to the virgin, had received 
a great deal of additional decoration of a showy and very 
tawdry description. We went to see the show, for it 
scarcely could be called by any other name, and found the 
chapel crowded. The women occupied a place by them- 
selves, and sat in Turkish fashion, on mats spread upon the 
floor. Many of them were young mothers, accompanied 
with their children. The men occupied the other side of 
the chapel, and sat or kneeled. It was a bright Syrian 
summer day, and the heat was excessive ; inside the church 
this was greatly increased, with the numerous lights that 
were burning all round the altar, and in various parts 
of the building, and with the long wax tapers which 



310 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



were held by some twenty boys, dressed in white and 
scarlet. What with these lights, the burning of incense 
inside, and the flaming sun without, the place was hot and 
crowded almost to suffocation. The music was the only 
redeeming feature in the service. At last a procession was 
formed, but we have only a vague impression of a great 
deal of gaudy colouring, white and scarlet dresses, and 
long wax tapers paling their feeble and glimmering lights 
in the blaze of the sun. We also remember a silk canopy, 
supported by four priests, and some church dignitary 
walking under it, — also a large silk umbrella, borne aloft 
over the head of some other official who, if we mistake not, 
carried the host, or what is regarded as the real body of 
our Lord ! The bells of the convent were set a ringing, 
and the pageant, such as it was, moved forward through a 
part of Nazareth belonging to the Latin Church. In our 
own country, what is most to be dreaded by a procession 
is a drenching rain, — the slush, mud, and torrents of a 
soaking wet day. If ever the brilliancy of a procession 
was utterly destroyed, it was the one we saw at Nazareth, 
not by rain, but by the excessive brightness of the sun. 
It acted upon the lighted tapers as the sun does upon the 
fire, it put them out or made the brightest of them look 
very sickly. The gayest colours had a dim and draggled 
appearance in the blazing splendour, from which all were 
but too glad to escape. We could see new beauty in the 
words of Paul to Agrippa, when he described the light that 
fell from heaven, " as above the brightness of the sun." 
The women were chiefly interested in the spectacle, and 
their dress did not by any means indicate that scrupulous 
reserve which we had observed in many other places. It 
went to the opposite extreme. The Mohammedans looked 
on with stolid indifference, and such a pageant would 



A MELANCHOLY CHIEF. 



311 



have very little influence in making any converts from 
their ranks to the Christian faith. The tawdry show had 
a strange effect upon our mind, as we thought of the life 
story of Jesus in connection with His mountain home. 
His townsmen of old sought to cast Him from the brow 
of the hill on which their city was built; and we could 
not help thinking that such a procession was a casting 
down of Christ and His truth in another way. 

Mr. Zeller introduced us to the young chief of the 
Beni Sakar, a lad of some fifteen or sixteen years of age. 
He was attended by a number of his tribe, and their 
horses were all picketed in the court attached to the 
house during their brief stay. When we entered the 
apartment where he was sitting, we were much struck 
with his melancholy, care-worn appearance; we could 
scarcely believe at first that he was the chief of the 
powerful tribe of the Beni Sakar. A heavy sorrow seemed 
to lie on that young heart ; and when we heard the sad 
story, we.ceased to wonder at the gloom that overshadowed 
his face. About two weeks before this, a large party 
belonging to the Adouan crossed the J ordan and made a 
sudden night attack upon the Beni Sakar, shooting the 
chief and several of his men, The youth rose and very 
cordially shook hands with Mr. Zeller, and requested us to 
be seated on the mats. In a few moments we were sup- 
plied with coffee and pipes. There was little said all the 
time we were present; it was like the meeting of a funeral 
party. We were greatly pleased to see the confidence 
which the young chief had in Mr. Zeller, and, probably, 
there is no European who has greater influence with the 
wandering tribes that hover about Nazareth and the plain 
of the Jordan, than this devoted missionary. 

A gun was handed into the apartment, and this broke 



312 THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 

for a little the stillness of the meeting. The young chief 
took it in his hand and examined it. more with a listless 
and oppressive air than anything like eager interest. The 
rest of the party handled it, however, with something like 
deadly intents, into which thoughts of avenging the death 
of their chief and those who had fallen with him doubtless 
entered. In the afternoon they mounted their horses and 
proceeded towards the Jordan. The next great event in 
the history of their tribe would probably be an attack on 
the Adouan, attended with similar results. The Turkish 
government rather encourages these attacks than other- 
wise, as it is in this way that the one tribe keeps the 
other in check. The present condition of the tribes in 
Syria is pretty much the same as the state in which our 
Highland clans were some two centuries ago, when the 
Campbells and the Grahams, the Macdonalds and the 
Macgregors, were living in a state of constant feud. As 
it is, the Turkish government seems utterly powerless 
to keep the Arab tribes in check, so it leaves this very 
much to themselves. All that it can do, is to buy up the 
help of the most powerful clan, and retain it, if possible. 
At the same time, it is not at all unwelcome news to the 
government when its own paid tribe is restrained by 
another, as the Sultan has little or no means of doing 
this for himself. In this unsettled state of matters, 
those who till the soil have no encouragement whatever 
to do this, and not the slightest security that they shall 
ever reap the fruit of their labours. In Nazareth, during 
our visit, there was a painful impression amongst the 
Christian portion of the population, that what with the 
fanaticism of the Mohammedans, the violence of the tribes, 
and the withdrawal of the few Turkish soldiers to the 
seaboard, life and property were not, by any means, safe. 



ON TO TIBERIAS. 



313 



It was the feeling which our Lowland forefathers had 
long ago when they were in daily dread of a raid from 
some Highland clan, with a freebooter of a chief at their 
head. 

Missionary labours were begun at Nazareth in 1850, 
by the English Church Missionary Society, at the urgent 
request of a number of natives; and the late lamented 
Bishop Bowen laboured among them for a considerable 
time with great zeal and success. Since then the light 
of the Gospel has spread farther and wider in Galilee. 
Three schools have been established at Nazareth and its 
vicinity, and small Protestant communities in a number 
of villages have joined themselves to the principal one at 
Nazareth. The community at the latter place numbers 
77 taxable men, or about 150 souls. The communities 
•at Yafa, Keneh, Kana, Tor an, and at the large village 
of Shefa 'Amar, amount to about 250 souls, making 
altogether in Galilee 400 Protestants, scattered over a 
considerable extent of country, with one missionary, two 
catechists, and four schoolmasters. * 

We found an excellent friend in Dr. Tartan, who super- 
intends the Medical mission department at Nazareth, and 
whose labours cannot fail to be a great blessing, not only 
to the town, but to all the neighbouring villages. 

The impressions produced by our visit to the mountain 
home of our Lord were an excellent preparation for visiting 
the Lake of Tiberias. We started shortly after noon, and 
had a pleasant ride ; the way sometimes lying over tracts 
of brown earth, strewn with little boulders, curiously 
shaped and worm-eaten, as if the sea and myriads of 
creeping things that could eat into the stones had been 
once there. Again we had to work our way through a 

* Appendix. 



314 



THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



perfect tangle of weeds, reaching oftentimes to the horses' 
girth, and giving sad evidence of a most fertile soil entirely 
ran to waste. Emerging from this wilderness of rank 
weeds, we came occasionally upon fields of corn, where the 
poor peasants were cutting down their crops, in hourly 
terror of being attacked by the Bedouins, and of seeing* 
the whole produce of their fields swept away. They 
reminded us of the workmen who built the wall in the 
days of Nehemiah, when "every one with one. of his 
hands wrought in the work, and with the other hand 
held a weapon. For the builders, every one had his 
sword girded by his side, and so builded." So it was 
with the poor peasants whom we found in the fields that 
were ripe for the harvest. Some of them had matchlocks 
slung across their shoulders, or an old sword or a couple 
of daggers dangling from their belt. There was an uneasy 
feeling all abroad as to some dreaded attack from a 
predatory tribe. This will help to show our readers the 
unsettled state of the country, and also why such large 
tracts of rich soil are a tangled mass of weeds. About 
four or five miles from Nazareth we passed a little village 
nestled amongst gardens and hedges of prickly pear on 
the crest of one of the many uplands of Galilee. This is 
Cana, the scene of our Lord's first miracle. The site has 
been disputed, but we stand by Kefr Kenna, for the good 
reasons furnished by Hepworth Dixon in his admirable 
book on the Holy Land. 

Apart from Jerusalem itself, there was no place in 
Palestine that we were more desirous of seeing than 
the famous lake of Galilee. A dread mystery hung about 
the Dead Sea, and that had its peculiar fascination to our 
mind ; but the sea of Tiberias was so wrought into the 
life of Christ, so much a part of it, that from our earliest 



LAKE OF GALILEE. 



childhood we had thought of its waters as reflecting 
nothing but images of love and beauty. The two seas, 
though in the same land, stood at opposite poles of 
history and feeling. We passed one upland after another, 
little dreaming that the lake was so near, for Ibrahim 
had resumed his old tale of " bad Arabs," and never can 
we forget the thrill of delight when, on reaching the top 
of a hill, we caught our first view of a small section of its 
blue waters sparkling in the radiance of the setting sun. 
It took us by surprise, and was all the more welcome and 
thrilling on this account. " There's the Lake !" we shouted, 
and the words quickly passed from mouth to mouth. 

Of course a great deal lies in association, but we could 
not help thinking that there was a look of tender love 
and pity about it. The hill dropped down by a long 
descent to the water, so that the lake gradually expanded 
before us as we rode down. The old regal city of Tiberias, 
built on the water's edge, though sadly dilapidated, had 
the marks of fallen greatness. No ride in Palestine was 
so full of pleasant memories, as the one down that hill to 
the shattered walls of the ancient city of Herod. On . 
reaching it, we found to our great dismay, that some 
fourteen cases of cholera had occurred that day in this 
filthy place, the most of which had proved fatal. The poor 
people were panic struck. Tiberias, at any time, must be 
a wretched, melancholy place, but the very mention of 
cholera in connection with it, made it doubly more so. 
The unexpected news threw a gloom over our encamp- 
ment that night; but the splendour of the full moon which 
rose over the mountains in all its glory, and the sacred 
memories of the place, made our tenting ground one of the 
brightest, certainly one of the most memorable spots in the 
Holy Land. Our baggage camels were late of coming up, 



516 THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 

so we spread our rug on the stony beach, and lay down 
and enjoyed the scene till our tents were pitched. Igno- 
rance is sometimes bliss. We heard a strange crackling 
sound among the stones, like that occasioned by the 
motion of a crab amongst pebbles, but it never for a 
moment occurred to us that we should get up, till one of 
our men shouted to us to rise ; — we had spread our rug on 
the top of several scorpions ! After dinner, we came out, 
and strolled about the lake for hours. The moonlight was 
so clear, that we could see to read without the slightest 
difficulty, M'Cheyne's beautiful hymn* The whole lake 
from the one end to the other was a sheet of silver, save 
where the shadows of the precipitous mountains on the 
opposite side made a dark background to the loveliest 
and most suggestive picture we have ever seen. Nothing 
since we entered Palestine brought home to our hearts, 
with such touching power and pathos, the divine beauty, 
the ministry, and the miracles of our Lord, as the sight 
of that lake. We could have strolled about all night in 
the beautiful moonlight, but the chilling dews, and occa- 
sionally gloomy thoughts about the cholera, compelled us 
to get under cover of our tents. But again and again, we 
came out to take a parting look at the lake, and the 
chalky cliffs, silvered over with the moon's pale beams. 
Before dropping off into sleep, we read all those deeply 
interesting passages in the Gospel narrative, that have 
entwined the life of Christ for ever with this sheet of 
water, which, though comparatively small, has been more 
glorified than any other water on the face of the earth. 
On these shores He had taught and healed, and great 
crowds had gathered around Him — on these waters He 
had walked to the help of His disciples— here He lay 

* Appendix. 



SAIL ON THE LAKE. 



317 



asleep in the hinder part of the ship, and here He repea- 
tedly calmed the tempest by the word of His power, 
"Peace be still!" 

On the rushing tide of memories that flooded the soul,, 
we tried to sleep, but in vain; so we rose at daybreak and 
bathed in the refreshing waters. It was surely something- 
to get a morning's swim in the lake of Galilee ! "We 
had scarcely dressed on the beach, when several persons 
approached, bearing the dead body of a man who had 
died of cholera during the night. They had brought 
the corpse to wash it in the lake, a few yards from the 
spot where we had just bathed. 

It was with great difficulty that we could procure a 
boat (the only one that can be had on the lake) as the 
panic had increased. We succeeded, however, at last, in 
getting a clumsy bark and a few boatmen, but seldom have 
we seen more spiritless, melancholy-looking men. They 
seemed half-starved, and they rowed us out from under 
the old rickety walls of Tiberias, like men under the 
sentence of death. Poor fellows, some of their own 
relations had died of the plague, and they seemed every, 
moment to dread an attack. From their looks, it would 
not have at all surprised us although they had been 
seized in the boat. They said but little all the time, 
and when they did speak, it was with bated breath. 
We had brought with us a sort of a cawass from Haifa, 
an old woman of a man, whose tongue seemed to be hung 
in the middle ; and now when we wished above all things 
to survey the deeply-interesting secenery in silence, he 
kept up a constant chattering, giving an account of the 
most wonderful exploits in which he played a chief part. 
His voice was cracked withal. The boatmen listened in 
silence and gave him now and then a melancholy look. It 



318 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



was endless. We wished to have our own thoughts in 
peace, and we tried to stop him with biscuits and fruit, and 
a piece of cold fowl. This only increased his volubility, as he 
concluded they were presents in return for his stories. He 
was quite chop fallen when we requested the dragoman to 
urge him to hold his tongue. It was a heavy penalty, which 
nearly threw him into a fit of sickness. We dreaded lest 
he might be the first victim, and were really glad when he 
commenced his old stories again. One of our boatmen 
woke up from his stupor, and pointed out the sites of 
Magdala, Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Kafirnahum. These 
were populous towns in the days of our Lord, and must 
have given picturesque beauty and animation to these 
shores, as the villages do at present on the Bosphorus, or 
like those which have recently sprung up on the Firth of 
Clyde. We made for the latter of these sites, the modern 
name of which is Tell-hum. The beach was bright with 
flowers, which at some little distance we took for the rho- 
dodendron, bub on approaching nearer we saw that the 
blossoms were those of the oleander. Not a human being 
was to be seen. It was utter desolation and silence, save 
the sound occasioned by the splash of our oars. As we 
drew the boat into a little bay, a young Arab, in the 
picturesque garb of his tribe, and with a long spear in his 
hand, suddenly made his appearance on a mound of ruins. 
Some goats were feeding among the tangled weeds at his 
feet. He was the only native we saw on these shores 
after leaving Tiberias, and his appearance was a picture 
which only served to make the desolation and solitude all 
the more oppressive. In company with the young Arab 
we examined the extensive ruins of Tell-hum, and picked 
up some marble fragments of what must have been 
beautiful friezes, or portions of a cornice, very probably, 



SPLENDID HORSEMANSHIP. 



319 



in the old synagogue. From the extent and character 
of these ruins, and from the recent discoveries made by 
the Exploration Committee, we have no doubt whatever 
that the modern Tell-hum is the ancient Capernaum so 
much associated with the ministry of our Lord, and which 
was emphatically called " His city." 

It was our intention to have stayed for a day at 
Tiberias, but the outbreak of cholera prevented this 7 so 
we hurried back to Nazareth, and passed a green spot on 
the hill-side, where, it is said, our Lord miraculously 
fed the famished multitude. If this be the spot there is 
still " much grass" in the place, and it commands a most 
extensive view. We spent a night at Cana, and were 
much amused at the mode of washing adopted by the 
women at the well. They placed their clothes on a stone, 
poured water on them, and then beat them with a heavy 
club, turning them occasionally from one side to the other. 
On reaching Nazareth we found Mr Zeller mounted on his 
mare, but we were prepared this time to give her a wide 
berth. He kindly accompanied us for a few miles on our 
way to Shefa 'Amar ; and when he parted with us he gave, 
us a specimen of horsemanship equal to any that we had 
seen on our approach to Gaza. He literally flew over the 
rough and stony sides of the hill and disappeared in a 
moment on the other side. That performance convinced 
us, that all we had heard about a real specimen of a fine 
Arab horse was not by any means exaggerated — 

"Away on the wings of the wind she flew 
Like a thing of life and light." 

The sight made us draw a long breath, even after all that 
we had seen of Bedouin horsemanship. Our way now 
lay through a beautiful country varied with pleasant 
undulating wooded heights, slopes, dells, and dingles, with 



320 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



here and there deep ravines covered with brushwood. 
What a fertile country that might be made were the little 
hills covered with corn, and the valleys with pastures — 
"they would shout for joy, they would also sing." How 
many happy homesteads might be there; but such a thing 
is not known. We met a few wretched-looking peasants to 
whom life seemed a burden. There is a dash of humour 
even in the "finest pisantry"' in the world, but utter 
dejection was stamped in the faces of the fellaheen who 
occasionally passed us armed, or who were working in 
the fields among their little patches of grain. 

We reached that night the quaint-looking village of 
Shefa 'Amar, with a huge castle on one side, and an 
immense mound, or rather hill of manure and rubbish 
on the other, which must have been the gathering of 
many years. This strange collection was smoking when 
we arrived. Our tents were pitched very near the bottom 
of it,- but as two persons had died that day in the village, 
who had came from Tiberias, we did not feel inclined to 
remain so near this gigantic dungheap, so our tents were 
taken down, very much to the annoyance of some of our 
attendants, and removed to a more elevated plateau at 
some little distance. The inhabitants had large flocks 
of goats, and it was quite a picture to see them coming 
home in the evening. If there was not an angry 
quarrel amongst the people, there was at least some- 
thing very like it; and we have still a vivid recollec- 
tion of their shouts and discordant screams, as they 
exhibited all kinds of angry gestures that night in the 
midst of their goats. We were struck with the mas- 
culine appearance of the women, and at the all but 
entire absence of anything like oriental reserve or con- 
cealment about them, so far as dress was concerned. 



ACEE. 



321 



Next morning we took a stroll through the village. Our 
path sometimes lay on the roofs of houses. There was 
the usual number of dogs, and they were very surly. 
Although the village is confined within very small 
limits, we nearly lost our way in its narrow tortuous 
windings, and found ourselves brought back again and 
again to the same place, to the no small amusement of 
the people who were watching all our movements, but 
who made no efforts to restrain the ill-natured dogs. 
The mountain mass of manure and rubbish stood us in 
good stead that morning, for it was the great landmark 
of the place, so we persistently made for it, but not 
without being stopped twice or thrice by blind passages 
and other obstructions. We found a Protestant catechist 
of the name of Seraphim, labouring most devotedly for 
the good of souls in this place. He gave us the most 
intelligent account we had yet heard of the religion of 
the Druses. 

Next morning we proceeded to Accho, or Acre, along 
what might be made a very fruitful plain ; but here again, 
rank weeds hold all but undisturbed possession of the 
soil. The cotton plant was growing here and there, and in 
a very healthy condition. Many vultures were hovering 
about, and we concluded, in accordance with the words of 
our Saviour, that some inviting carcase could not be far 
distant. We halted by the side of a well, at which there 
was a covered recess, and here we sat down to screen our- 
selves for a little from the fierce heat of the sun. The 
water was drawn up from a considerable depth, by means 
of a wheel, a rope, and a great number of pitchers, which 
emptied themselves into a trough, at which the passing 
beasts of burden quenched their thirst. When the trough 
was nearly emptied, the man who sat near the wheel, to 

x 



322 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



which there was attached a number of little blades or 
shelves, moved it with his feet, somewhat after the manner 
of a treadmill, only, in this case, the man sat at his post. 
Every one turned aside to this fountain as he passed, drank, 
and went on his way; mules and horses, donkeys and camels, 
sheep, goats, and oxen, all stopped to be refreshed. It is 
when seated at a well, that the traveller has a good chance 
of seeing the various phases of Eastern life. Our tents 
were pitched outside the walls of Acre, on the sand by the 
seashore. It was doubtful whether we could get into the 
town or not, as flying reports of cholera were producing 
quite a panic among the people. When we entered at the 
gate, we were instantly stopped by the sentinel, but after 
some inquiries, he permitted us to pass. The town had a 
dilapidated appearance, in short, it is a strange jumble of 
bazaars, ruined fortifications and ofiicial-looking build- 
ings riddled with shot. This once important place is 
now sadly fallen into decay. We met a procession which 
is very common in the East, called the "circumcision 
festival;" on this occasion, there was also a wedding 
associated with it, for the purpose, we presume, of saving 
expense, and making a grander exhibition. The boy was 
very richly attired, at least there was a great display of 
gold and silver ornaments and bright colours about his 
dress. He was mounted on a fine Arabian horse, decked 
with gay trappings and led by a groom in holiday attire. 
A canopy was borne over the head of the girl who was to 
be married, but she was so enveloped in coverings from 
head to foot, that she appeared more like a mummy than 
a bride. It is a wonder to us that she could walk at all, 
or that on such a hot day she was not suffocated in the 
process, considering the canopy and the coverings. There 
was a large attendance of matrons and maidens, some of 



A QUEER CONSUL. 



323 



whom kept fanning the poor imprisoned girl, whilst 
several young men occasionally sprinkled the crowd with 
rose-water. A band of music produced more noise than 
melody. The procession stopped at intervals, and several 
men, dressed up for the occasion, went through a variety 
of sword exercises, and gymnastic feats, mingled with the 
wit and humour of a clown who did his best to please 
the spectators. 

A man with a very Jewish face, which was certainly 
very far from being clean, requested us, in broken English, 
to follow him into what he called his office. This we gladly 
did, for the fierce glare of the sun was very trying, and in a 
little, we were seated in a small projecting box of a place, 
right over the blue waters of the sea. It was a pleasant 
contrast from the hot and weary street. On expressing a 
wish for some iced lemonade, he hinted at something much 
stronger; however we kept by our first proposal, and gave 
him a sum that was considerably more than requisite to 
gratify our wishes. He gave the order to some one stand- 
ing near, dressed in a loose night gown, with a white vest 
buttoned over it. The iced water and lemons were, 
brought, and some bits of lump sugar; but our host had 
pocketed the money, and seemed quite oblivious of all 
payment, although the man who had brought in all the 
articles, stood thrusting in his hand from behind a par- 
tition where he thought he must be concealed from our 
view; but we saw the whole affair, as that hand kept pull- 
ing at our host's dress for the money which had been laid 
out in prospect of immediate payment. The credit given 
was to be very brief. The creditor evidently thought 
from the position he occupied, that he was concealed, so 
his head was next thrust in a certain length from behind, 
and as fine a pantomime took place as one could possibly 



324 



THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



desire to see. There were nods, winks, and scowls ; 
and that face assumed almost every possible index of 
Iranian feeling — the smile of coaxing at one time, and the 
angry gloom of threats at another. But our host was 
inexorable, he pretended to hear and to see nothing, and 
kept hinting to us in broken English, and in German, that 
we would be much the better of something stronger. 
"This one day make very hot." It was as good as a 
comedy, only the pantomime was all on one side. The 
creditor knowing his man, was determined, like Charlie 
Napier at the siege of this place, to make a breach at all 
hazards, so he bawled out in Turkish, (words which were 
equivalent in meaning to the demand) "Pay me the money !" 
Something was paid after this to keep him quiet behind 
the screen, but it was a mere tithe of what the Jew had 
received. The scene, however, was worth three times the 
money, and even now we cannot think of it without a 
laugh. And who was this Jew who had invited us to his 
office ? He was the representative of British power and 
authority. Not an actual consul, but the only apology 
for one. He had no real official position, but he had 
come to be recognised in the place, somehow or other, as 
the guardian of British interests. 

He visited us next day in our tent, when Seraphim, the 
catechist, happened also to be present. A fierce theological 
discussion took place, the Jew fighting, of course, for 
Judaism, in the strictest meaning of the term, and when 
he was baffled in argument he tried to beat his opponent 
by loud and angry speaking, and by personal abuse. 
The same day we had a visit from some half score of 
young British tars belonging to a man-of-war anchored in 
the offing. They had come ashore and were going about 
the sea-side, when they happened to see the Union J ack 



JACK AT HOME. 



325 



floating from the top of our tent-pole. This was enough; 
they concluded that English friends, whom they had a 
right to know, and to salute, must be living here, so they 
made for our tent and were about to enter when Achmed 
stood between them and the door to prevent their admis- 
sion, and somewhat angrily demanded what they wanted ? 
Jack replied that he had a right, all over the world, to be 
where the Union Jack was, pointing proudly to the one 
floating above our tent. Without any further parley one 
of the tars gently pushed the son of the prophet aside, and 
at once introduced himself and the rest of his companions. 
They had all the frankness of British seamen, and after a 
conversation, which they would have prolonged to any 
extent, they took their departure, giving us a hearty 
British cheer. This mightily pleased the Jew, as it 
served to show the natives, he said, what power he had 
at his back. Was there not a war vessel in the road- 
stead, and had English seamen not come come ashore to 
honour him with a visit ? 

We visited a Christian family in Acre, but such is the 
influence of Eastern feeling and habit that the wife kept 
closely to her own apartment. This may only be the 
case when strangers are present, such as we were, but we 
felt that there was great coldness in that home circle 
when the wife was constrained to keep her own side of 
the house, and take a stealthy glance at us as we went 
away. 

Many of the houses still look as if they had been 
riddled with cannon balls. The enormous fortifications 
were deemed at one time impregnable, but they could 
not stand before Charlie Napier's guns in 1840, and the 
great breach then made in the wall has not yet been 
repaired. The whole place presents that slovenly appear- 



326 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



ance so characteristic of Turkish affairs. It was at this 
port, then called Ptolemais, that the apostle Paul touched 
on his way to Jerusalem, in the face of bonds and im- 
prisonment that awaited him there. 

It blew rather a heavy gale when we put off, after 
sunset, in a small boat, for a Russian steamer, which had 
dropped anchor about a quarter of a mile from the shore, 
on its way to Beyrout. It is still a matter of wonder to 
us how the small boat, nearly sunk to the water's edge 
with passengers and heavy luggage, ever managed to 
reach the ship. All, however, were got safely on board, 
but not without difficulty and risk. The present condi- 
tion of the harbours all along this ancient line of coast is 
as bad, if not worse, than the roads in the most neglected 
parts of the country. 

Next morning we steamed into the spacious roadstead 
of Beyrout, and on leaving our berth, shortly after sunrise, 
what a magnificent range of mountain scenery rose before 
us ! Much as we had heard of Lebanon before — for its 
name is a household word in every Christian home — we 
were not prepared for such a glorious view. It had not 
come on us gradually; we had steamed into the bay 
before getting on deck, and now this mighty mountain 
mass suddenly stood revealed in all its majesty and gran- 
deur in the bright radiance of the morning sun. "When 
we landed, some of the poor people rushed forward to 
carry our luggage, but certain officials beat them very 
severely with sticks, giving us a painful recollection of a 
similar scene which we had witnessed at the railway 
station at Cairo. 

After breakfast, the first visit we paid in Beyrout was 
to the British Syrian Schools, established a few years ago, 
and so successfully conducted b}^ Mrs. Thompson In a 



BEITISH SYRIAN SCHOOLS. 



327 



country where -women have been so long degraded beneath 
the position which they ought to occupy, and where the 
very idea of giving them education was a thing never 
dreamt of, these schools have been a marvellous success 
and a great blessing. 

On entering the various rooms we were greatly struck 
with the neatness, cleanliness, and good order which were 
at once visible everywhere, even in the midst of building 
operations. We examined several classes in Bible history, 
and were delighted at the answers we got in English from 
the boys and girls who have been taught this language 
and who speak it fluently. But what struck us most was 
their knowledge of the Scriptures, as they could not 
possibly have had any previous idea as to the questions 
we would ask, for the examination was not, in any case, in 
the lesson for the day. One boy in particular caught our 
attention, by the intense eagerness which he manifested, 
by the readiness, frequency, and correctness of his answers. 
By and by this boy cannot fail, with God's blessing, to 
make an excellent native teacher ; indeed he expressed a 
strong wish that he might yet be sent to Nazareth for 
this purpose. We were greatly pleased with the staid 
and attentive demeanour of all the scholars, especially 
the more advanced ; whilst in the singing of the hymns — 

"Just as I am, without one plea," etc.] 
" I heard the voice of Jesus say," etc. 

we could not fail to observe a deep tone of religious 
feeling, and we felt convinced that surely the Spirit of 
God had touched some of these young hearts. At all 
events they are placed under influences most favourable 
for piety. Several children were pointed out to us, the 
expense of whose education at these schools is met by 



328 THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 

some kind Christian friends at home. One girl inte- 
rested us very much, who is in this way supported at 
school by the kindness of a lady belonging to Glasgow. 
The same good example has been followed in several 
instances since our return home. One of our friends who 
was present at our examination of these schools, was so 
convinced from what he saw of the good they had already 
accomplished, that he generously undertook to support 
one at Mokhtara for several years at least. We left these 
schools with the most pleasing impression that the in- 
struction of these children cannot but form an important 
element in that process of regeneration which will yet, we 
believe, make that land, so long trodden down, partake 
largely in the brightness and beauty of the latter-day 
glory. This much we believe is certain, that a great and 
good work is going on at Beyrout and elsewhere in Syria, 
in connection with the education of the young ; and that 
Mrs. Thompson and those associated with her in this noble 
enterprise, which at present, on account of large building 
operations, must entail great expense, are deserving of all 
encouragement and support. We do not know of any 
field of Christian effort where good fruit may be more 
speedily gathered than at these Syrian schools ; and we 
pray God to bless them more and more, and still more and 
more make them a blessing !* 



* Appendix. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

OVER THE LEBANON — EARLY START — APPROACH TO DAMASCUS — STREET 
CALLED "STRAIGHT" — PAUL'S CONVERSION — VIEW OE THE CITY EROM 
A NEIGHBOURING- HEIGHT — RICHLY-DECORATED HOUSES — STRANGE 
CONTRASTS — MODE OE DOING BUSINESS — COURT OE THE HOTEL DEME- 
TRI — CHRISTIAN QUARTER — MASSACRE OF 1860 — NOBLE EFFORTS OF 
ABDEL KADER — DOGS OF DAMASCUS — MR. TRISTRAM'S DESCRIPTION OF 
THE CITY — DANCING AND HOWLING DERVISHES — INSCRIPTION ON THE 
GREAT MOSQUE — BACK TO BEYROUT — COMMUNION SERVICE — ON 
BOARD THE "AUSTRIA" — TURKISH HAREEM — CYPRUS — HAREEM 
THE SECOND — VISIT TO RHODES — ANCIENT STREET OF THE KNIGHTS 
— DELIGHTFUL SAIL — CHIOS — A TRAGIC STORY — BARBARITY OF THE 
TURKS. 




HE stage for Damascus (yes, the Lebanon is 
crossed by a well-appointed "High -flyer!") 
was announced to start about three o'clock in 
the morning, so we disappointed the mos- 



quitoes and got up before they were half through with 
their savage work. Provided with lanterns for the dark 
streets, we had next to face the dogs, some of which 
were very fierce. We reached the yard from which the 
diligence was to start, and got a taste of the old coaching 
days, in the utter absence of anything like punctuality. 
The Mohammedan maxim about speed was carried out 
that morning to a provoking extent ; for we might have 
given the mosquitoes two hours longer to their breakfast, 
and after all been in good time. But there is a soul of 



330 



THE DESEBT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



goodness in everything, it is said, and it was certainly 
better to stroll about that dark yard for two hours under 
the stars, than to fight for the same length of time with 
mosquitoes and the whole race of insect biters. At last 
we got off, when the radiance of the rising sun made 
Lebanon look like a mighty mass of brightly-burnished 
gold. The glory fell now on a pine forest, again on 
terraces of mulberry trees and vines, and lighted up the 
dark and mysterious recesses of deep ravines, and flashed 
on populous villages, many of which were most roman- 
tically situated on bold projecting cliffs, on the slopes of 
deep gorges, on abrupt angles, or in lovely green dells ; 
and when we turned and looked from the height to the 
sea, and upon Beyrout, stretching away down to the foot 
of the mighty mountain, and lying on the landscape like 
a gem in a beautiful setting, we felt the peculiar force of 
the expression, the " glory of Lebanon/' 

The road displays great engineering skill, and, dur- 
ing the present year, a traction steam-engine has been 
employed for the purpose of conveying goods, if not 
passengers, between Beyrout and Damascus! There are 
numerous stages on the way, and at every one we got 
out, and enjoyed very much the glorious scenery. At 
one of these stages we were greatly struck with the 
appearance of Mount Hermon crowned with snow, and 
another high mountain with its summit also draped in 
white. Having reached the crest of Lebanon, we de- 
scended into the wide-stretching plain called Ccelo Syria > 
and before us rose, like a mighty wall, the huge sides 
of Anti-Lebanon. At length we gain the summit of this, 
and on coming down on the other side, we get our first 
glimpse of Damascus — the oldest city in the world — lying- 
in a wide plain, and surrounded by beautful gardens, with 



THE HOUSE OF JUDAS. 



331 



bare chalk cliffs in the back-ground. For some time we 
follow the course of the river Abana, which Naaman 
thought was so much better than all the rivers of Israel, 
when he was commanded by the prophet Elisha to go and 
wash in the Jordan. We enter a long avenue of young 
trees — the river still sweetly flowing by our side — we 
cross the bridge, and are at last in Damascus, of 
which the Eastern poet has said — " Though old as history 
itself, thou art fresh as the breath of spring; blooming 
as thine own rose-bud, and fragrant as thine orange- 
flower, O Damascus, pearl of the East !" On our way 
we passed what is, in all probability, the spot where 
Paul, then a fierce persecutor, was arrested by a light 
which shone suddenly around him, above the brightness 
of the sun, and it must have been more than an earthly 
brightness which exceeded that of a Syrian sun. 

Strolling through the street that is still called 
"Straight," we came upon what is said to be the house of 
Judas, where Paul spent three days and nights in blind- 
ness and anguish of heart, and where he was brought to his 
knees, "Behold, he prayeth." We were attracted to the 
house by bits of rags, strings, and ribbons attached to the 
window bars, and to every part of the wall to which such 
things could be fastened. These were left by pilgrims, 
much in the same spirit which prompts some people to 
leave their initials on a memorial tree or ancient ruin. 
It was in this city that Paul first preached the glad 
tidings of salvation, and it was here he had such a narrow 
escape from his enraged enemies, to which he refers in these 
words, "In Damascus the governor under Aretas the king 
kept the city of the Damascenes with a garrison, desirous 
to apprehend me: and through a window in a basket was 
I let down by the wall, and escaped his hands." This 



332 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



window in the old wall is still pointed out, and as we 
stood under it and looked up, we saw in fancy the basket 
let down which held the man whose teaching was to 
stir the world to its depths. Notwithstanding the great 
antiquity of this city, going back into the mists of a 
very remote period — for we read that Eliezer the faithful 
servant of Abraham belonged to it, and notwithstanding 
the stirring events in its wondrous history, and the long 
array of illustrious names associated with it, the conver- 
sion of this one man in the street called "Straight," has 
had a greater influence on the destiny of the world, than 
all the other names connected with Damascus. 

Like all other cities in the East, it is seen to best 
advantage at some distance. Ascend a neighbouring 
height crowned by a wely or tomb, and your eye will 
rest upon one of the most remarkable landscapes in the 
world. Rich gardens fill the plain below, presenting a 
striking contrast to the rugged cliffs and the bare hill- 
sides that overlook the city. Seen from this point, 
Damascus is really worthy of the name given to it by the 
Eastern poet, the " pearl of the East," for it is surrounded 
by gardens which, if not trimly kept, are, at least, amaz- 
ingly fruitful, bright with blossoms in the spring, and with 
all kinds of luscious fruit in the summer. This impression 
however, if it does not entirely vanish, is greatly modi- 
fied the moment you get into the crowded parts of the 
city. The first day we spent in it, the rain came down 
in torrents, till some of the narrow streets became so 
many canals, and it was most amusing to see the donkeys 
and their riders plunging in these, amid all kinds of fetid 
offal. It is a city of the strangest and most unseemly 
contrasts, as for example, you see everywhere marks of 
great taste and slovenly neglect; beautiful fountains and 



HOUSE DECOEATTONS. 



333 



shocking filth ; houses, the interior of which are unrivalled 
for splendour, but before you can get to the entrance you 
must wade ancle-deep through gutters. We visited 
some private houses belonging to wealthy Greeks and 
"Jews, and the interior decorations of these were truly 
wonderful. The marble floors of rich mosaic work — the 
walls and ceilings decorated with arabesques and tracery 
in foliage and flowers — the highly artistic fountains in 
the courts, with gold fish darting about in the murmuring^ 
waters, kept cool by the overhanging branches of the 
Orange trees, and by various kinds of flowering shrubs — 
appeared to us to be the very perfection of taste, and of 
the beautiful in art; but, then, a few yards from these 
on the outside, were heaps of filth and offal, and, ten to 
one, dead dogs floating in the gutters, which the rain had 
swollen. One of these beautiful houses was occupied by 
an old wealthy J ew. When we entered, he was taking 
his siesta in a little chamber off the court. The porter of 
the house conducted us to his master, and made known to 
him our wish to see some apartments in his dwelling. 
His face reminded us of Shylock, and he simply made 
a motion with his hand, to intimate we were welcome. 
In this house the workmanship in marble excelled any- 
thing we had ever seen. Next morning we found the 
same old Jew sitting in a corner of a small shabby apart- 
ment, in what seems to be the Exchange of the city, 
bent on making money. Several merchants, anxious for 
business, accosted us on the streets, and requested us to 
walk into their rooms — not in the bazaars — but in con- 
nection with their own private dwellings, and inspect the 
different articles which they had for sale. These were 
generally the richest and the most fanciful products of 
the Eastern loom. Every day before we had finished 



334 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



our dinner at the Hotel Demetri, so called from the 
name of its owner, a Greek, we were waited upon by a 
dealer in jewellery and all kinds of strange nick-nacks, 
and his tempting wares were duly spread with the 
dessert for the inspection of the company. That dealer's 
house was a strange museum of swords, daggers, and 
various kinds of firearms ; a perfect medley, also, of 
female ornaments of every description, and shawls and 
slippers in endless variety. When he came to the hotel 
after dinner, he was a sort of itinerant epitome of all the 
bazaars in the city. In these you may find Damascus 
blades; gold embroidered robes so stiff that they can 
stand alone, fit for wearing only in the East; jewelled 
daggers and scimitars, and strange-looking firearms of 
the olden time, heavy with ornamentation, lying in 
splendid confusion amid glittering piles of Syrian silks; 
shawls from Persia and Cashmere; slippers wrought in 
gold ; and printed calicoes from Manchester and Glasgow. 

The court of the hotel was a pretty little bit of 
Damascus life. A beautiful fountain occupied the centre, 
where pure water from the river was kept constantly flow- 
ing. The side of the basin, in which gold fishes disported 
themselves, was fringed with beautiful flowers, while a 
few orange trees kept the place delightfully cool. Madam 
walked about in her high pattens in the morning, and saw 
that everything was scrupulously clean. It was a pity 
that her excellent housewife abilities did not extend to 
the narrow dirty streets outside. Damascus is about the 
best watered city we have ever seen, for everywhere the 
Abana is turned to good service, either in fountains, which 
are very numerous, or in small streams which are led off 
from the river, and the sweet murmur of clear water is 
heard everywhere. Damascus should therefore be the 



ABDEL KADEK. 



335 



cleanest city in the world, but strange to say all this tine 
flow of water, and some 80,000 dogs to boot, fail to keep 
it in anything like a sanitary condition. 

The population is said to be about 150,000. This is 
divided as follows: — Mohammedans, 129,000 ; Christians, 
15,000; Jews, 6000. The principal manufactures of the 
city are rich silks, which are exported to Egypt and 
Persia, and coarse woollen cloth, worn by the peasants 
and the Bedouins. About 500 looms for the production of 
rich silk fabrics, the property of the Christians, were all 
destroyed during the massacre of 1860. Many of the 
houses were burned, and when we visited the Christian 
quarter the blackened walls of the roofless houses were 
still standing in several places, furnishing a sad testi- 
mony to the ruthless character of Moslem fanaticism. 
That quarter still bears a melancholy and desolate aspect. 
In 1860 about 6000 helpless and unoffending men, 
women, and children were cruelly put to death; many 
were struck down when working at their looms, and 
their dwellings set on fire. Many more would have fallen 
but for the efforts of Abdel Kader, the Algerian chief, 
who, although a descendant of the Prophet, sheltered 
hundreds of the Christians in his own house, and bravely 
stood between them and the furious mob, when they 
clamorously demanded their lives. He kept the blood- 
thirsty fanatics at bay, and succeeded in allaying a storm 
which might have been much more destructive. Mounted 
on his fine Arabian, one of the purest breed, with a party 
of his faithful Algerines behind him, who had followed 
him in all his fortunes, and who were armed to the 
teeth, it is said he addressed the furious crowd, already 
drunk with blood, in the following words: — "Wretches! 
is this the way in which you honour the prophet ? May 



336 THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



his curses be upon you ! Shame upon you, shame ! You 
will yet live to repent. You think you may do as you 
like with the Christians, but the day of retribution will 
come. The Franks will yet turn your mosques into 
churches. Not a Christian will I give up; they are 
my brothers. Stand back, or I will give my men the 
order to fire." The flames of Moslem hatred for a time 
were quenched. The crowd dispersed; not a man of 
them durst raise his hand against one who is regarded 
as a lineal descendant of the prophet. 

We visited the great mosque, which was built in early 
times as a Christian temple. It happened to be near the 
mid-day hour of prayer, and we were compelled to make 
our visit brief. When we were standing on the madn£h 
of the minaret, the muezzin, a blind man, came up to call 
the faithful to their devotions. It was Friday, and they 
were flocking into the mosque. Several fakirs stood in 
the vestibule, and the scowling looks which they gave us, 
unmistakably showed that a fire of bitter hatred was 
smouldering within, which a spark might kindle into fury 
any day. The dogs in certain quarters did not seem to 
have any better feelings towards the Franks. Additional 
force was now given to the words of the Apostle, "Beware 
of dogs." We found this caution especially needful in 
Damascus. They pick up offal in the gutters, prowl and 
snarl amongst your feet, always with a cowed and suspi- 
cious look, sleep even in the midst of the thoroughfares, 
where the mules and donkeys walk over them, and when 
night comes down, they howl and whine about the streets, 
and maintain a series of fights on their respective beats. 
This was the case in the days of the Psalmist, for when 
describing the movements of wicked men, he says : — 
" They return at evening : they make a noise like a dog, 



FILTH AND FINERY. 



337 



and go round about the city." Nothing amongst the 
canine tribe in the East is to be heard like the honest 
bark of the faithful house dog, when he gives a cheerful 
welcome to his master on his return home. 

We can fully endorse every word in Mr. Tristram's 
graphic description of Damascus : — 

" Yet, after the first dazzling effect had worn off, it was 
rather a disappointing place. Much filth, endless tortuous 
streets, miserable exteriors, sumptuous palaces, bustling, 
shabby, but rich bazaars, repulsive smells, and piteous 
ruins, — these make up the Damascus of to-day. 

" In the city we were taken to visit one of the wealth- 
iest houses. After picking our way over heaps of offal, 
stepping over dead dogs, and kicking aside living ones, 
through a loathsome dark lane, we turned up a narrow 
entry, and were admitted at a small door. This led into 
a crypt-like, vaulted antechamber, through which we 
passed, and turning round, found ourselves on a . sudden 
in a marble open court, in the centre of which was a foun- 
tain, surrounded by exotic trees. All round the court 
were rooms; and in the centre of each side an open cham- 
ber, or large alcove, up two or three steps, with a little 
marble fountain playing in front, and silk ottomans, work 
tables, and easy chairs behind. The roofing of these 
alcoves and the walls were marvellous in their elaborate 
workmanship and colouring, — the whole one mass of 
carved and gilded arabesque. The flooring was marble, 
the, walls up to the wainscot marble, in elaborate mosaic 
patterns. Each room had a fountain in its centre, and 
was furnished with silk ottomans all round, lavishly 
strewn with brocade and silken cushions. A gallery ran 
round above, in front of the up-stairs rooms, which were 
similarly arranged. Such was probably a Jewish house 

Y 



338 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



in the palmy days of the monarchy. Yet in all this lavish 
decoration, this Oriental splendour and luxury, there was 
nothing to feed or occupy the mind, nothing to assist social 
intercourse — neither books, nor music, nor paintings — no- 
thing, in fact, beyond good taste and polished barbarism."* 

Whilst sitting one evening with Mr. Rogers, the British 
Consul, who showed us no small kindness, he said, " You 
must go to-morrow and see the dancing Dervishes, and 
on the following day, the howling Dervishes." Our 
curiosity was excited ; so next day shortly after noon 
we set out to visit the former. Their quarters are finely 
situated in a garden, through which flows a stream of 
pure water, one of the many offshoots from the Abana. 
On our arrival, we found that we had come too soon, 
and had, therefore, to wait for a time — indeed, till our 
patience was nearly exhausted. The chief of the sect, 
an elderly, good-looking man, was in an adjoining apart- 
ment, and he ordered a mat to be spread for us on a 
wooden bench. Coffee was provided, and when he saw 
that we were getting impatient, he sent to inform us 
that the service, or rather, we might say, the perform- 
ance, was just about to begin. We observed that all the 
Dervishes very carefully washed their feet in the runlet 
of water, according to the practice of all true Moslems, 
before commencing their devotions. 

When all the preparations were complete, we proceeded 
to the mosque. It was unlike any other building of the 
kind that we had seen. There was a gallery, where a 
band of musicians were seated, with a set of very simple 
instruments, conspicuous amongst which was the dara- 
buka, or drum. In the area there was a circular space 
railed off, like the ring of a circus. The spectators stood 

*"The Land of Israel," pp. 612, 613. 



DANCING DERVISHES. 



339 



on the outside of this, whilst the inside was occupied by 
the Dervishes, who were now preparing to begin the 
real work of the day. Instead -of turbans, they wore 
long funnel-shaped hats, very rough and shaggy, as if 
made of coarse wool. At length the sheikh, or chief of 
the community, appeared at a corner of the ring, bearing 
a sheepskin and a piece of carpet, which were regarded 
with great veneration. These were laid down upon the 
floor, and all, with very guarded steps, moved warily 
around them. The sheikh stood ■ at the edge of these 
mysterious articles, and every one of the performers came 
forward and kissed him in succession, and the whirling 
began, accompanied with music from the gallery. About 
twenty performers were on the floor at a time, and 
although the space was limited, not one came into collision 
with another. They were dressed in tightly-fitting jackets 
and white skirts, the latter, when the wearers stood, hung 
loosely about their limbs, but when the whirling began, 
these expanded, and filled up all the space in the ring. 
The movements, however, were all so accurately made, and 
the respective distances so well kept, that not a single 
skirt came into contact with another. The music became 
fast and furious, and so did the whirling, which, notwith- 
standing the increased rapidity, was very gracefully done. 
Both arms were somewhat extended, the eyes closed, and 
the head slightly inclined to the one side. Some faces 
actually assumed a sort of ecstatic appearance, as if the 
whirler was lost in some delightful reverie. The sheikh 
occasionally made a few turns on the floor, but his exer- 
tions were nothing compared with those of his followers. 
We half expected to see some of them drop down in a 
fit, or in a fainting condition. On a certain signal being 
given, the whirling suddenly stopped. Some of the 



340 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



Dervishes were streaming with perspiration, but not one 
of them appeared to be giddy. This first set retired and 
made way for another, who went through the same for- 
malities of very warily walking round the mysterious 
bit of carpet and sheepskin, and kissing the sheikh. 
This whirling was carried on by successive relays for 
more than an hour, when the service was declared to be 
at an end. 

In this brief and imperfect description, we have omitted 
many minor and minute details ; but such are the general 
outlines of this strange sight. There was, at least, method 
in the madness, and the whole affair was much more 
graceful and decorous than we had expected. There 
were occasional chan tings, prostrations, brief prayers, 
and an immense amount of whirling, and this is a Mo- 
hammedan service. That afternoon, when making a few 
purchases in one of the largest stores in the city, we 
at once recognised the owner of it, as one of the Dervishes 
whom we had seen performing but a short time before. 
Some of the principal traders in Damascus, we were told, 
belong to this sect of the Moslems. 

Next day we went to see the howling Dervishes in a 
different part of the city. When we entered their court, 
about fifty men were going through a performance simi- 
lar to that which we had witnessed at Gaza. Holding 
each other by the hand they formed a circle, and kept 
swaying their bodies backwards and forwards, sometimes 
by rapid jerks up and down. The words, which the whole 
of them uttered at once, seemed to come from the depths 
of the chest. It was violent exertion, and some of them 
continued at it till their faces became livid, and their eyes 
were like to start from their sockets. A half-naked wild 
looking fellow, toothless and grinning all over, the most 



HOWLING DEKVISHES. 



.341 



powerful Dervish in the whole company, lay dozing in a 
corner of the court, with a huge wooden sword by his side. 
At a certain point in the performance he startled us by 
springing to his feet, and brandishing aloft his powerful 
weapon, to which several small chains, that made a rattling 
noise, were attached. He was in a state of frenzy, foaming 
at the mouth, and uttering the most unearthly yells. We 
regarded him as a dangerous maniac, and kept out of his 
way as far as we could. But all this fury was looked 
upon as a sort of inspiration, a divine afflatus, by the rest 
of his companions, whilst some few gently attempted to 
soothe him. In a short time we had seen and heard 
quite enough, but they were anxious we should return in 
a few hours, when, as another part of their religious ser- 
vices, they would cut themselves with knives, thrust 
skewers into their bodies, and eat broken bits of glass! 
It is very astonishing what these Dervishes do in 
this way, but we were not anxious by any means to 
put them to the test, so did not go back. We had no 
desire to see an exhibition similar to that of the priests of 
Baal, when, in their desperation, they cut themselves 
with knives and lances. From all that we heard of this 
strange sect, we felt inclined to regard them as in some 
respects identified with the practices of these ancient 
priests. 

Strange enough, when we visited the Great Mosque we 
did not observe the famous inscription in Greek above the 
principal entrance. We were hurried at the time, as the 
hour of prayer had arrived. Our presence then would have 
been an intrusion, and might have been resented in a way 
not very agreeable. The truth is, we were not aware that 
such an inscription was to be seen, and it was too much 
to expect that a dragoman, or a local guide (we were pro- 



342 



THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



vided with both), would ever think of calling our atten- 
tion to such a thing, even had they known of its existence. 
It was therefore with some degree of chagrin, when we 
were just about to leave Damascus, we were informed that 
we had missed one of the most interesting relics of 
antiquity in the whole city. It was early in the morning, 
and the "Diligence" was about to start, but knowing the 
power the old maxim about speed being from Satan has 
upon the oriental mind, we set off to the Great Mosque 
and saw this celebrated Greek inscription. The following 
is a translation : — 

"Thy kingdom, O Christ, is an everlasting kingdom, 
and Thy dominion endureth throughout all generations." 

These words point at once to the fact that this 
noble structure, nearly as large as the Mosque of Omar, 
though wanting its splendour and interest, was, in early 
times, a Christian temple, in which the glad tidings of 
salvation, through a crucified Eedeemer, were proclaimed; 
and may these very words not be regarded as a prophetic 
announcement, standing there in spite of all Moslem 
fanaticism, that the time is coming when " the glorious 
Gospel of the blessed God" shall yet be proclaimed within 
these very walls, and this, and all other lands shall own 
Christ as their Lord and King. 

Full of these pleasing anticipations we found our way 
back to the "Diligence," and had still half an hour to wait- 
till the "time was up," although, according to announce- 
ment, this should have been nearly two hours before. 

We had another pleasant ride over the Lebanon, and 
were even more struck than before with its glorious scenery. 
We reached Beyrout in the evening, and received another 
hearty welcome from Basool, our worthy landlord, who 
was more than obliging, and this is saying a great deal, 



COMMUNION SERVICE. 



343 



but no more than he deserves. Next morning the Kev. 
Mr. Robertson, the esteemed minister in connection with 
the Church of Scotland, waited upon us and requested 
us to take part in the communion service which was to 
be held that morning — a request with which we were but 
too glad to comply. It was a deeply interesting service 
— a gathering of Christian friends from many lands — an 
Evangelical Alliance on a small scale, but in the best sense 
of that term. All sectional differences were forgotten in the 
warmth of Christian affection around the common table of 
our Lord. It was good for us all to be there. We had 
another opportunity of meeting with Mrs. Thompson and 
her relatives, Mr. and Mrs. Mentor Mott, who have done 
so much for Syria in the education of the young. It 
afforded us also great pleasure to meet with several 
esteemed friends from America, Dr. Bliss and Dr. Thom- 
son, the author of the "Land and the Book," who are 
labouring in the same direction with great devotion. 

So many rumours were afloat about quarantine that we 
were obliged to leave Beyrout much sooner than we had 
intended. Fearing lest we might be detained for weeks, 
we sailed in the "Austria" for Constantinople, Ibrahim, 
Achmed, Mohammed, and our good old friend Mustapha, 
the cook, accompanying us to the ship. He promised to 
"boil water" if ever we should return and take him again. 
We were not long on board till we discovered that we were 
sailing with a Turkish hareem, consisting of some five or 
six wives, two little girls belonging to the same mother, 
and a number of female servants, one of whom was a 
Nubian, with a face as black as a sloe. A considerable 
portion of the lower deck was screened off for their special 
use, but it was not easy to secure entire concealment 
on board*ship, so that we had occasional glimpses of the in- 



344 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



terior life of this peculiar institution. With the exception 
of one, who was probably wife the first, and who was "fat, 
fair, and forty," the rest were young and handsome. One, 
we were told, was a Circassian, very beautiful, and dressed 
in a superior style to the rest, but she seemed either to be 
sea-sick or home-sick, for she kept always by herself, in 
utter silence, and never joined in any of their frolics. Piles 
of quilts and pillows were spread upon their portion of the 
deck, and on these they reclined the whole day long in 
utter indolence, smoking cigarettes, eating sweetmeats, 
sipping coffee, or having some little childish frolic with 
one another, in which the Nubian slave was certain to play 
a prominent part. It was a life of sheer inanity and indo- 
lence — as near the merely vegetating process as possible. 
Not one of them could read or write, so that not a single 
book was to be seen, not a needle, not a crochet-pin, no 
fancy work of any kind. The lolling process on the quilts 
was occasionally varied by a standing posture, when they 
would look for half an hour, or more over the bulwarks of 
the ship into the sparkling waters. The paterfamilias of 
this establishment was an elderly Turk, tall and spare, 
and with a face of imperturbable gravity. It was under- 
stood that he held an important government situation at 
Constantinople. He spent his time chiefly on the quarter- 
deck playing at chess and backgammon, smoking, and 
drinking coffee. He never was seen speaking to one of 
his wives. They never approached him, nor was he ever 
seen to pay the slightest attention to any of their wants. 
They seemed to be wholly entrusted to the care of a confi- 
dential servant, or house-steward, of the name of Hadji — 
a title which implied that he had made the pilgrimage to 
Mecca. He was a good-natured fellow, and wished to cul- 
tivate our acquaintance, but our means of communication 



HAEEEM LIFE. 



345 



were limited to half a score of words. There was quite a 
scene took place at Cyprus, which served to vary a little 
the monotonous life of the hareem. We arrived very 
early in the morning, before any of the passengers were 
astir. Paterfamilias had gone ashore, and when the 
schoolmaster is out the children will have play. We were 
awakened by the merry clatter of female voices, and 
greatly to our surprise, on getting on deck, we found that 
the whole hareem had broken loose, with the exception of 
the Circassian, and were all on the quarter-deck look- 
ing at Hadji, who was swimming round the ship. The} 7 " 
were clapping their hands and screaming with delight, 
like so many children, as they followed Hadji, who seemed 
to be a great favourite amongst them, in all his movements, 
throwing biscuits at him, which he dexterously picked up. 
Seldom have we seen a more expert swimmer. Some- 
times he would dive under the keel of the vessel, and come 
up on the other side. The aquatic sports lasted for about 
half an hour, and no children were ever more amused than 
were the members of the hareem that morning, in the 
absence of their lord and master. They were all scrupu- 
lously screened and penned when he returned, and we 
never saw them let loose again. That scene at Cyprus, 
however, was not in keeping with our previous notions as 
to female reserve in the East. It is for the most part a 
matter of unnatural constraint, which tends to destroy 
the instinctive purity of a true woman's heart. What a 
poor, pitiful, empty life, and what an utter degradation 
of woman ! But perhaps we should, in justice, add that 
we had only a glimpse of this life on shipboard, where it 
could not be seen to advantage, if there is indeed a brighter 
side of the picture. 

The "Austria" dropped anchor about a quarter of a 



346 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



mile from the shore, and we landed along with a few 
more of the passengers at Larnica, a town which, as 
seen from the deck, in point of situation, reminded us of 
Rothesay. We were now on Cyprus, where that "good 
man " Barnabas had an estate ; where the " old' disciple " 
Mnason lived; and where Elymas the sorcerer endeavoured 
to interrupt the work of Paul in his mission of mercy, 
and was struck with blindness. It is a lovely island, 
but spoiled by the mismanagement of the Turks. Under 
the Venetians the population amounted to one million; 
at present it is only about one hundred and fifty thousand, 
the great majority being Greeks. We sauntered about 
the streets of Larnica, visited the church of St. John, and 
went into one of the best conducted schools that we saw 
during the whole of our journey. The teacher kept ex- 
cellent order, and from the system he pursued, he could 
not fail to produce good scholars. Appropriate texts of 
scripture in the Greek language, printed on cloth, and in 
large type, were hung all round the apartment. 

On getting to the ship, we found that the Turkish 
paterfamilias had returned — all his gazelles were under 
canvas, and Hadji was assiduously attending to their 
wants. Another Turkish gentleman with his hareem 
had come on board at Cyprus, so that we had now two 
establishments representing the peculiar domestic insti- 
tution of the East, and consisting of fully a score of 
women, wives and female servants included. Another 
portion of the deck, close to the former enclosure, was 
screened off for this addition to our number. The se- 
clusion of the ladies on the day after leaving Cyprus 
became much more rigid than before, but we saw enough 
to convince us that the poor creatures had no amusements, 
no elevating influence higher than mere childish drivel, 



EHODES. 



347 



and that their life was one of painful restraint, inanity, 
and utter indolence. The two worthies who were at the 
head of these establishments seemed to be inseparable. 
They sat for hours together on the quarter-deck, amusing 
themselves with a variety of sluggish games, but we 
never saw them pay the slightest attention, by word 
or deed of any kind, to their wives or servants. We 
could not help contrasting the condition of these poor 
creatures, with that of an amiable and accomplished 
Greek lady who paced the deck with her husband 
arm in arm, enjoying the delightful sail and the pleasant 
converse. They were all the world to each other. 
Woman, certainly, is not much indebted to the Koran. 
More than once we observed the two Turkish worthies 
stop their games, take their bearings towards Mecca, 
spread their carpets on the deck, and go through their 
devotions, no matter who was looking on. There seems 
to be no necessity for this on the part of woman. 
As to any religious observance, she occupies a very 
equivocal position ; at all events, we never saw a woman 
in a mosque. 

On reaching the island of Rhodes, we went ashore, and 
spent a few hours strolling through the chief town, which 
bears the same name. The effects of the severe earth- 
quakes to which this famous island has been frequently 
subjected, were everywhere visible. The shattered towers 
at the place where we landed, bore painful testimony to 
this. It was within two hours of sunset, when the gates 
would be shut, so we made the most of our limited time 
by procuring a guide, who conducted us to the chief 
places of interest. We went up the silent and deserted 
street where the ancient knights once lived. The armo- 
rial bearings of each order of knighthood, cut in marble, 



348 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



are still to be seen above the doors, with various other 
devices. The street is so oppressively silent, so utterly 
deserted, that fancy sets to work at once and conjures 
up the past. The Bitter Strasse, to our imagination, was 
again filled with armed knights. We heard, as it were, 
the clash of their arms, the tramp of their horses' feet, 
the sound of the trumpet, and saw the gay banners 
floating in the breeze. What a place this would have 
been for the genius of Sir Walter Scott ! There was, 
indeed, one little flag, with red and blue stripes, and on 
inquiry we were told a Dervish lived there. He was 
not at home, but the wife came out and got a baksheesh. 
There seemed to be very few tenants in the whole street. 
It was ancient grandeur falling into the depths of silence, 
solitude, and decay. The church of St. John was com- 
pletely thrown to the ground, the stones lying about in 
the utmost confusion. Our guide informed us that it 
was laid in ruins by an explosion of gunpowder which 
took place a few years ago. When the knights were 
resident here, they had carefully concealed a large quantity 
of gunpowder in some vault, and the inhabitants were 
altogether ignorant of this. During a severe storm, 
this cell was struck by lightning. A fearful explosion 
followed, and the magnificent church of the knights, 
which had been latterly used as the principal mosque, 
was utterly demolished. Our guide showed us in 
various places the terrible havoc occasioned by a recent 
earthquake, when many lives were lost and much pro- 
perty destroyed. The sun was sinking in the west, and 
we had to make for the gate ere it was closed for the 
night. On our way to it we observed everywhere tokens 
of departed greatness. The bazaars were still open, though 
nearly deserted, and we made a few purchases, as memen- 



DELIGHTFUL SAIL. 



349 



toes of our visit, On reaching the gate, many people 
were sitting outside, along the base of the wall, smoking 
and sipping coffee. We spent all the remaining daylight in 
a beautiful garden, full of delicious fruit, especially mish- 
mish, or apricots, of which we took a large supply on 
board for future use. 

We never expect to havejnore enjoyment in the way 
of sailing than we had for a day or two after leaving 
Khodes, and where we passed one famous island after 
another so celebrated in ancient song and story. The 
bare, rugged sides of Samos reminded us of Skye. It 
was startling to hear such namesjas Samos, Coos, Chios, 
Icaria, Halicarnassus, and Patmos. It was with special 
interest that we gazed upon the latter till it was lost to> 
view in the shades of evening. When passing the island 
of Chios, which claimed to be the birth-place of Homer — 
"the old blind man of Scio's rocky isle" — we went on 
deck, and when strolling about, observed two of the 
passengers, a Greek gentleman and his wife, looking most, 
intently at the island. It was very evident that both 
were deeply moved. We found them most agreeable 
companions, and on taking a seat beside them in the 
beautiful moonlight, the gentleman, in a subdued and 
solemn tone of voice, informed us of the cause of his 
emotion. Pointing to the island, he said — "That was 
my home, my birthplace, but I have not been there since 
I was two years of age." He told a touching story, 
which made a deep impression on all who heard it. His 
father had been a merchant, and was most successful in 
business, whilst the mother, endowed with a rare com- 
bination of virtues, had made their home singularly happy. 
Previous to the year 1822, the island had enjoyed great 
prosperity, and the peaceful inhabitants, contented and 



350 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



happy, had no desire whatever to embroil themselves in 
the revolution which then took place, and which ended in 
the establishment of the kingdom of Greece. In the spring 
of 1822 a number of Samians landed on the island, and 
either persuaded or forced the inhabitants to join the 
insurrection. It has been already proved that the Chians 
had no wish for any change in their political condition ; 
but the Turks had long regarded their great prosperity 
with envy, and now that they had got some pretext for 
resorting to violence they subjected this beautiful island 
to the horrors of a massacre unparalleled for its barbarity 
in modern, or perhaps even in ancient times. An army of 
Moslem fanatics landed on the island, and the work of in- 
discriminate butchery began. Within two months 25,000 
Chians had fallen by the edge of the sword, and 45,000 
were dragged into slavery. In about six months, out of a 
population of 110,000 only 2000 were left. "When the 
massacre took place/' said our friend, "my father was from 
home on business. My mother, and all the members of 
the family in the house at the time, fled for their lives. 
A faithful female servant ran off with me to the mountains, 
and got separated from the rest of the household. For 
two nights that domestic lay concealed with me in the 
woods, and at last succeeded in finding the rest of the 
family. We all escaped to a neighbouring island, from 
which, with difficulty, we got to England. Since that I 
have never had a foot on Chios, but intend to sail for it 
as soon as we reach Smyrna." 

There was little Avonder that both our friend and his lady 
should be deeply affected on looking at this island. He had 
been very fortunate. God had been a father to the fatherless, 
and had raised up for him kind helpers in England, who sent 
him to one of the excellent schools in connection with the 



TEAGIC STORY. 



351 



Society of Friends. There he received a first-class educa- 
tion, and ultimately rose to represent a large commercial 
firm in the East Indies, where he had been residing for 
several years. He had made what he regarded as a com- 
petency for life, and was now travelling in the East with 
his excellent and accomplished lady, whom we also took 
to be a Greek. It was a deeply affecting story, but doubly 
so as told by him in the beautiful moonlight, and in the 
immediate neighbourhood of the island itself. There is 
nothing more tragic in all the pages of Homer than the 
tale of woe to which we listened that evening on the 
quarter-deck of the "Austria," as the mountains of Chios 
rose before us and the lights on the shore glimmered in 
the distance. 



CHAPTER XV. 



GULF OP SMYRNA — QUARANTINE — UNNECESSARY ALARM — NIOBE IN TEARS- 
— VIEW OF SMYRNA — FIELD OF TROY— LAZARETTO OF ABYDOS — COLD 
RECEPTION — STRANGE MEDLEY — UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS — INSECT 
POPULATION — FIRST NIGHT OF QUARANTINE — RUSSIAN PILGRIMS — 
SLAVE MARKET — SCENE AT BATHING— THE DOCTOR'S DIFFICULTIES 
— BABEL RENEWED — SABBATH SERVICES — ALL NATIONS REPRESENTED 
— MELANCHOLY THOUGHTS — FREE ONCE MORE — A BIT OF DOGGREL — 
VISIT TO DARDANELLES — IMMENSE GUNS — OFF TO CONSTANTINOPLE 
— MAGNIFICENT VIEW OF THE CITY — SHORES OF THE BOSPHORUS — 
SCUTARI — SCENE AT THE " SWEET WATERS" — BAZAARS — PRINCES 
ISLANDS — FAREWELL TO STAMBOUL — DISAPPOINTMENT AT ATHENS — 
HOMEWARD BOUND. 




HEN steaming up the Gulf of Smyrna, that 
arm of the sea set in the midst of beautiful 
scenery, and just when we had matured our 
plans, as we thought, for visiting some of the 



seven churches of Asia, we were quite taken aback one 
morning, very early, with the announcement that we must 
go into quarantine. Sure enough steam was let off and 
our good ship, the " Austria," had dropped anchor. The 
captain and all his officers were fine specimens of hearty, 
honest Germans. Never have we felt more at home on 
board ship than we did on the "Austria," with the frank, 
obliging, genial-hearted captain and his brother officers, 
all men of kindred spirit, who stood in favourable contrast 
with the official hauteur and assumed dignity we had met 



CAUGHT AT LAST. 



353 



elsewhere. On getting on deck the captain informed us 
that shortly after midnight, when within a few miles of 
Smyrna, he was obliged to stop and put back, but that he 
intended to try again. Accordingly the anchor was lifted 
and we steamed up the gulf in the bright sunshine of a 
lovely morning, and in the midst of scenery unsurpassed 
for placid beauty. We had only proceeded a few miles, 
when, on passing an official-looking building, a small boat 
bearing the ominous yellow flag at the bow put out, and 
the quarantine officer demanded where we came from. 
Our captain replied, "Trieste." It was at this point in the 
gulf where we had been stopped during the night, but 
strange to say, we were now permitted to pass and proceed 
at once to Smyrna. The small boat with the yellow flag 
pulled back to the shore, and the captain and officers 
enjoyed a hearty laugh and rubbed their hands with glee 
at the success of their password. It was indeed true that 
the "Austria" had sailed from "Trieste" at the outset of 
the voyage, but since that she had touched at Alexandria 
where cholera had broken out, and all vessels coming 
from that port were placed under quarantine. The success 
of "Trieste" was but of short duration, for when we lay to 
about a mile from Smyrna another yellow flag made its 
appearance — fussy-looking officials came on board — our 
ship's papers were demanded and examined, when it was 
seen that we had touched at Alexandria — this was enough, 
we were ordered into fifteen days' quarantine. This, we 
thought, most unreasonable, as no case of cholera had 
occurred till after the "Austria" had left Egypt. All on 
board were in excellent health, as the ship's surgeon 
testified. He never had less to do during any voyage, so 
that he could really bring in an excellent bill of health. 
The captain, too, pled our cause with great fervour, but all 

z 



354 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



this availed nothing to the administrative wisdom of the 
quarantine officials. Our plans were all upset. Ephesus 
and other places of interest vanished from these like a 
dissolving view. Letters and parcels of books, entrusted 
to us by friends in JBeyrout, for parties in Smyrna, had 
all to be sent ashore. The case of a lady on board, who 
was accompanied with a pretty little girl, her daughter, 
was very hard. She belonged to Smyrna, had been absent 
several weeks at the marriage of a relative somewhere on 
the Lebanon, and was now returning home. She had not 
lately been near Egypt any more than ourselves. Her 
distress was great when she saw from the deck her own 
dwelling on the shore, but was not permitted to land. Her 
husband and some other members of her family came from 
the town in a small boat, but they were not allowed within 
speaking distance. An affecting pantomime took place, so 
much so that we were glad when it was over for the poor 
lady's sake, who was hysterically frantic at times, and 
when the violent emotion subsided she stood like Niobe, 
dissolved in tears. As for ourselves we sat on deck in 
rather a squeamish state of mind, notwithstanding the 
glorious panorama that lay spread before us — the city, in 
the form of a crescent, stretching from the shore up the 
hill, like an amphitheatre — minarets glittering here and 
there; and large spaces where the tall dark cypresses 
stood out in striking contrast against the bright blue sky. 
These, with the houses, domes, minarets, and towers, 
formed a beautiful picture. 

The summit of the hill is crowned with a castle, said to 
be built on the site of the ancient church, and where tra- 
dition affirms Polycarp suffered martyrdom. We can say 
nothing of the interior of the town, but report affirms that 
its narrow, tortuous streets are very dirty and unhealthy. 



QUAEANTINE. 



355 



As seen from the bay, few towns have a finer or a more 
picturesque appearance. Its population is estimated at 
about 150,000, and its trade, especially in fruits, is very 
considerable. During the fruit season long strings of 
camels may be seen entering the town from all parts of 
Asia, and the whole place is then full of stir and bustle. 
Figs, raisins, and every kind of oriental fruit, as well as 
silk, cotton, sugar, indigo, opium, and skins, are exported 
in great quantities. Some idea of the extent of its trade 
may be gathered from the following statistics : — The 
number of vessels that entered the harbour in 1855, 
was 1805, tonnage, 420,438 : those that cleared, 1771, 
tonnage, 411,157, exclusive of the steam navigation. 
Steamers ply to Constantinople, Marseilles, Malta, and 
other ports in the Mediterranean. 

The quarantine officers had decided that all on board 
our ship should spend the term of fifteen days in tents 
on a bare island, without the shelter of a tree; but, at 
the urgent remonstrances of the captain and surgeon, it 
was ultimately agreed that the time should be spent at 
Abydos on the Hellespont. "We pled hard, in the name 
of our party, to be allowed to remain on shipboard, and 
the surgeon and the captain did all they could on our 
behalf, but in vain. A quarantine officer came on board 
to see that all the regulations were carried out, and under 
his superintendence we sailed for the Dardanelles to- 
wards the evening of a lovely day. The hills to our left, 
in the radiance of departing day, seemed like velvet of a 
deep purple. If a glorious sunset and a most beautiful 
landscape could have brightened our prospects, our 
enjoyment at the time, and our hopes for the morrow, 
would have been of the most delightful character ; but 
all our arrangements for extending our journey had been 



356 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



upset, and from all that we had heard of Lazaretto life, 
we felt convinced that we were going into " durance vile." 
Next day we reached the Dardanelles, and however 
gloomy our forebodings might be, the scenery was truly 
grand. The plain of Troy was at no great distance, but 
notwithstanding all the classical interest attached to 
this famous place which Homer has immortalised, there 
was more interest felt and expressed as to the where- 
abouts of the Lazaretto than about the scenes of those 
ancient struggles of which the world has heard so much. 
Fort Europe was passed on the one side, and Fort Asia 
on the other, then the town of Dardanelles; and in a 
little we saw to our right, close upon the shore, a low- 
lying square of one story wooden houses, with red tiled 
roofs, and with a bare and utterly blind wall facing the 
sea. The monotony of the dead wall was indeed some- 
what relieved by a house of two stories in the centre, at 
the entrance. This was the Lazaretto of Abydos, and it 
had anything but a pleasant look. It was built, we were 
told, during the Crimean war, as an hospital — hurriedly 
got up for sick and wounded soldiers. 

An immense number of steerage passengers were on 
board the "Austria," many of whom were Mohammedan 
and Christian pilgrims returning home, and who must 
have been very sparing of soap and water for many 
weeks. All were put out in small boats. The two 
Turkish gentlemen were very fussy about their hareems, 
reminding us of the movements of a hen when, greatly 
to her surprise, the ducklings she has just hatched 
take to the water, and she runs about in helpless con- 
sternation and terror. We were the last to leave the 
ship, as we still cherished some lingering hope that we 
might be allowed to remain on board, and complete our 



PASHA WADDLER. 



357 



term of quarantine there, but the health officer was in- 
exorable, and all our party were obliged to turn out 
with the rest. On stepping ashore from the little boat, 
we observed a short, thick-set, waddling Turk, with a 
tarboosh, and immensely- wide trousers, which would have 
held a winter's supply of potatoes for a small family. 
He had a long white wand in his hand, and when we 
were told by the captain that he was the highest official in 
the place — a sort of pasha — we approached him with the 
view of making ourselves agreeable, and so offered to shake 
hands ; but the Turkish Falstaff started back several feet, 
as if to avoid the thrust of a rapier, and held out his rod 
to keep us at arm's length. We were quite unprepared for 
this sudden manifestation of alarm. He shook his head, 
roiled his eyes upwards, shrugged his shoulders, raised his 
hands, with all the fingers widely extended to their utmost, 
in the form of a fan, and the palms turned towards us in the 
most imploring manner. Every finger, every feature of his 
face, every gesture of his little thick-set body, every harsh 
guttural he uttered, was an urgent command for us to keep 
at a distance. Never did we experience till that moment 
what must be the feelings of a poor leper, or plague-smitten 
wretch, when he is shunned by all. We, of couse, had the 
plague spot, or, at least, were suspected, and we must not 
come any nearer. On better acquaintance with this official, 
we named him Pasha Waddler. Our period of confinement 
(fifteen days) must have reduced his weight very consider- 
ably as he was obliged to step out a little more sharply 
than usual. [Several subordinates who acted as guards, 
and who also went about constantly with rods in their 
hands, were associated with him in the management of the 
place. 

We turned from the pasha, not in the most pleasing state 



358 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



of mind, to the heavy wooden gate, like a jail door, facing 
the sea. On passing through this and then another gate, 
our heart rather sank within us when we saw the nature 
of the accommodation, which was not only limited, but 
wretched in the extreme. Half a score of passengers, in 
many instances, were thrust into one small hut. We 
looked round to take stock of the place, and it was a 
strange sight, for almost every nation under heaven was 
represented there. Every one had come ashore carrying 
something. Much of the luggage had a very ludicrous 
appearance, and the various costumes were quite a study. 
The "Austria" was the first ship put in quarantine for 
the season. She had soon a companion in tribulation ; 
for shortly after we had arrived, a Russian vessel was 
also detained, and her passengers joined us, thus in- 
creasing the number of inmates to between five and six 
hundred, when there was not accommodation for the half 
of that number. The passengers from the Russian vessel 
were mostly pilgrims, and many of them were in a 
wretchedly filthy condition. 

The one-story wooden huts were built round the enclosed 
space in the form of a square. There might have been to 
each of these a cheerful look-out to the sea, but instead of 
this there was a long dead wall. The small windows were 
grated, and they all looked into the court upon a mass 
of tangled weeds which reached higher than our knees, and 
through which we had to make footpaths by treading 
them down. These prickly weeds were in a withered and 
decaying state, and had a most sickening smell. It was 
evident that the place had been opened at a moment's 
notice, and nothing had been done to put it in anything 
like a cleanly condition. Any consideration as to comfort 
was quite out of the question. It was opened just as it had 



LAZAEETTO OF ABYDOS. 



359 



been left some twelve or fifteen months ago, and that 
must have been filthy in the extreme. There was not the 
slightest semblance of any article of furniture in the small 
apartment which we were but too happy to secure by 
the payment of a pretty round sum, even for the bare 
floor and walls. Two American friends, who joined us 
at Beyrout, occupied another corner across the passage. 
The Greek gentleman and his lady happily secured a third. 
As our room was the largest, it was agreed that this 
company of six should dine together in it, for the sake of 
more space and friendly intercourse. But where was the 
dining-table ? There was not one in the whole place. This 
was no inconvenience whatever to a Turk or an Arab, or 
to any Oriental, but not so to any one brought up with 
Western ideas of living. Necessity is the mother of in- 
vention. We got a few planks, the window sill did for a 
support at the one end, and a mason's trestle, which was 
much about the same height, served the purpose of legs at 
the other. The question never occurred to us till our table 
was erected where our meals were to come from. It was 
well we had dined before leaving the vessel, for there was 
no food to be had in the Lazaretto that night. After all 
this was no great hardship. Could we not go and sleep ? — 
easier said than done in such a place. All the insects of 
a certain kind that prey upon man or beast were repre- 
sented there in myriads. Then there was no bed to sleep 
on. The Turks and the Arabs beat us in this respect, 
for they brought carpets and rugs without number, and 
they could wrap themselves up in these and go to sleep. 
The Lazaretto was no inconvenience to them. Saving the 
restraint, it did not take them much out of the ordinary 
rut of then daily life. It was very far otherwise to 
Europeans. We went supperless to bed and hoped to 



360 THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 

forget all sense of hardship in the land of dreams, but we 
were sadly mistaken. When we saw some half score of 
individuals huddled together in small apartments we 
thought we had secured a great advantage by having 
only two in our room; but when the time for sleep 
came we were inclined to take a different view of 
the case, for had there been some half-dozen, or even 
more to squat upon the floor, the ranks of the light 
infantry and the sharp shooters would have been broken 
up into more manageable divisions. Next to a brain 
fever, or a conscience on fire, they are about the worst 
enemies to sleep which any poor mortal can possibly 
encounter. There is no need of an alarm clock in such a 
place, and if one does not acquire the habit of early rising 
there, he may be given up as utterly hopeless on this 
matter. The next best thing we could do after getting up 
in the morning was to rush out to the cooling waters of 
the Hellespont, and try how far we could swim across. 
This privilege was obtained not without considerable 
difficulty and liberal baksheesh. Our example was fol- 
lowed ere long by many; but the work of slaughter, which 
seemed to be a favourite pastime to some before they 
took to the blue waves, cannot be described. All this 
may be very shocking to some fastidious readers, but the 
truth is we have not said half so much as Mr. Kinglake 
has done in his admirable book on Eastern travel, entitled 
"Eothen."* There was a cemetery but a little way off, 
and one of our American friends, in moments of despond- 
ency, used to point to it and give us the cheering assurance 
that we would all have a place there before the expiry of 
the fifteen days. If not killed by disease, we would be 
devoured by vermin. 

*Appendix. 



TESTIMONY BEARING. 



361 



The first night of our confinement, written protests and 
complaints were drawn up, and signed by every one of 
our party. These were forwarded to the British and 
American Consuls at Dardanelles, and to Lord Lyons, Her 
Majesty's ambassador at Constantinople. There was any 
amount of grumbling and protesting — in short, for the 
first few days we could think of nothing else that we 
could do. Some of the replies to these complaints were 
very emphatic and indiguant, and afforded no small 
amusement after dinner. The following extract from one 
of these will serve as a specimen. 

" The Lazarettos of Turkey are, as they ever were, in 
a disgraceful state. They are only and truly types of 
everything Turkish — types of the decaying institutions 
of a degraded and effete race, which is only now and then 
galvanised into some spasmodic efforts by outside pres- 
sure, the re-action which follows only manifesting more 
and more clearly the utter helplessness of government and 
people. The final agony of the mongrel Tartar race 
encamped in Europe cannot be far off, and it is a con- 
summation most devoutly to be wished, in the interests 
of the superior race whose efforts at progress are now 
stifled in the throttling grasp of an Asiatic horde !" 

This was received with plaudits to the echo, and the 
writer of this Johnsonian passage was unanimously voted 
a most sensible fellow. At all events, we found him most 
generous, and his timely supplies of books and newspapers 
did much to relieve the tedium of our confinement. Any 
parcel or letter from the outer world was handed to us 
at the end of a pair of very long tongs, and any written 
message that we had to send out, was taken up in the same 
way. When our warm-hearted captain came to speak to 
us, he was permitted to do this only through the bars of 



362 



THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



the outer gate. There was a store in a corner of the 
square, where a few necessary articles could be pur- 
chased. The transactions were all conducted at a small 
window, by means of a long shovel, on which the money 
was placed, drawn inside, and thrown into water. The 
same instrument, containing the various articles required, 
was again thrust out at a wicket. On the third or 
fourth day, a few rickety beds were sent up from a hotel 
at Dardanelles, from which, also, we drew our supplies of 
food, such as it was, at a ransom price. In the Lazaretto, 
as well as elsewhere, " money answereth all things ; " and 
how much better we must have fared than hundreds who 
were entirely dependent on the small store ! It is still 
a mystery to us how many of the poor pilgrims managed 
to subsist during those fifteen days. On several occasions, 
by the kindness of a few friends, we were enabled to 
minister to their wants. 

On the second day of our imprisonment, a most amus- 
ing scene took place in connection with our swimming 
in the Hellespont. Such an aquatic sport seemed to be a 
thing unknown before at the Lazaretto. There is a nar- 
row space that rims along the whole front of the building, 
sloping down towards the sea. This was the only place 
for a promenade, where the wall afforded a temporary 
shade at certain times of the day, and where one might 
enjoy the cooling breeze of the sea. But the gates leading 
to this terrace were kept locked. Many a wistful look we 
cast through the large key-hole at the narrow slip of green 
and the sparkling waters outside. The guards could not 
resist the offered baksheesh, and we had the gratification 
of seeing the big key applied to the lock, and in a little we 
were outside along with an American friend. If the guard 
could not resist the baksheesh we could not withstand the 



BATHING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 



363 



sight of the tempting water, and the next thing to be done 
was to get under the blue waves as speedily as possible. 
We were not aware that there could be any possible objec- 
tion to this, so we prepared for a dive. Our New York 
friend was just in the act of undressing, when his move- 
ments caught the eye of the guard, who rushed forward in 
the most frantic manner, shouting and flourishing his stick 
to stop the bathing, and to all appearance with the convic- 
tion that we were about to make our escape, or attempt it 
at least by swimming across, as Leander did to visit his 
beloved Hero on the other side. The guard, by his shouts, 
brought all his comrades in the establishment. But they 
were too late, for, the moment they approached, America 
disappeared in the water, and they stood shouting and 
gesticulating on the shore. To bathe in the sea seemed 
to be about the last thing that would enter the head of 
a Turk. This was such a luxury that we resolved that 
when the doctor made his appearance we would do our 
best to get his sanction for a daily swim. He came next 
morning and went round the place, but it was with the 
greatest difficulty we could obtain his permission to bathe 
in the sea ! It was at last, however, reluctantly granted, 
on the condition that the privilege should be confined 
solely to ourselves, and that we should exercise it early in 
the morning, before any of the inmates were out of bed. 
This arrangement, of course, obliged us to rise about 
daybreak, but this was not the slightest hardship in such 
a place. Somehow or other the fact of our bathing got 
wing, and others soon followed our example. A Turkish 
pasha at last complained to the consuls at Dardanelles, 
and called upon them to put a stop to the practice, on the 
ground that his hareem was so near, but how anyone in 
that establishment could see through a dead wall is a 



S64 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



mystery. Before the expiry of the term of fifteen days we 
had the pleasure of seeing that the practice was pretty 
generally followed ; and to this we attribute, in a great 
measure, the absence of disease in the Lazaretto during 
our visit. Nothing, however, would have been heard of 
bathing in the sea had it not been introduced in the way 
we have described. Some had not been washed for years, 
and they would remember the Hellespont in the future, 
if for nothing more than the bath they got. 

The doctor's inspection of the place was a very curious 
affair. He was invariably preceeded by Pasha Waddler, 
who kept all at arm's length with his long white rod. A 
clear space being thus formed, the doctor would look at 
any one on the sick list (happily there was no serious 
case) at a most respectful distance. He was very timid 
and fussy, and his restless uneasy look was enough to 
make any nervous person unwell. After all there was 
great cause for anxiety on the part of that poor man, for 
had cholera broken out in the Lazaretto, where so many 
were huddled together in small apartments, the conse- 
quences would have been fearful, and the secret dread of 
this might account for his extraordinary reserve and 
nervous timidity. Had such a fatality occurred, what 
could have been done amongst so many ? The great won- 
der is that, in the filthy and overcrowded state of the 
place, there was not a violent outbreak of some deadly 
disease. The medical man was so powerless, and had so 
few of the necessary materials at his command to meet 
any emergency, that he could not possibly supply us with 
the slightest modicum of any disinfectant, not even 
chloride of lime, but at a high price, even although the 
smell of the place at times was intolerable. Disease 
might have broken out in the ship, but this was much 



SLAVE MARKET. 



365 



less likely to be the case than in the Lazaretto, and had 
there been any victim of cholera, it would not at all have 
surprised us if the doctor had been the first. Poor man I 
The shadows of it seemed always to rest on his face. 

The captain came frequently to enquire for us at the 
gate, and to converse with us for a little through the bars. 
He told us a queer story in which there may be a little 
exaggeration, but even admitting this, it illustrates the 
terror which seizes even the medical mind when there is 
an outbreak of cholera in the East. A seaman had become 
unwell on board a ship that was in quarantine. The 
doctor approached the vessel in a small boat, but would 
not go on board ; the poor sailor was brought upon deck 
and placed at the bulwarks. He was asked to show his 
tongue, and the doctor still retaining his seat in the small 
boat, examined that organ through a pocket telescope I 
The captain grew red in the face as he laughed heartily at 
the bars, and added, " I have heard of a Lazaretto doctor 
attempting to feel a pulse by means of a long white wand !" 
These may be exaggerations, but they point to the great 
necessity for reform in quarantine arrangements. 

One beautiful Sabbath morning, the Turk who was gene- 
rally employed as auctioneer when any special articles 
were offered for sale, was making a greater shouting than 
usual as he went round the square. At last he stopped, 
and a crowd collected. On stepping forward to see what 
he had got for sale, thinking it might be a gun, or a 
sword, or some piece of dress, we were greatly surprised 
to see two fine boys from Nubia, jet-black and well 
formed, exposed for sale. They were standing upon two 
stones, with their backs against the wall that enclosed 
the well. The auctioneer expatiated on their good quali- 
ties in the most approved form of oriental exaggeration. 



366 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



A Turkish pasha, who flaunted about the place in a flow- 
ing robe of purple silk, examined the boys very carefully. 
He evidently had a longing eye after them, but the price 
asked was, in his opinion, too high — sixty pounds for 
each ! The auctioneer did his best to effect a sale, but, 
saving the pasha, no one seemed inclined to make an offer, 
and as he would not come up to the price that was asked, 
the boys were sent back to their old quarters. They 
appeared quite indifferent as to what might be their lot. 
The pasha in purple would, in all likelihood, secure them 
before he left. It was the first time we were ever brought 
face to face with slavery, and we did feel a strange sensa- 
tion, a peculiar tingling in the blood, when we saw these 
two smart, handsome boys standing with their backs to 
the wall, in the midst of a crowd, to be sold to the highest 
bidder. The sight was new to many besides ourselves in 
the Lazaretto, and evidently took them by surprise. Our 
American friend said, with great emotion, as he saw 
the two beys step down from the stones which served 
as an auction-block, " Thank God ! that's a thing of the 
past in my country;" and most fervently did we add 
an emphatic " amen ! " 

Again and again did we try to write sermons, but this 
was utterly impossible, for the Babel confusion and noise, 
not to speak of any other annoyance, most effectually 
put a stop to this. There were no organ grinders nor 
London cries, but we had something much worse for any- 
thing like meditation. A muezzin, whose voice might 
have been heard on the other side of the Hellespont, went 
round the square calling the faithful to prayer. He was 
generally followed by an auctioneer pursuing his noisy 
vocation in Eastern style — that is, by rushing round the 
square displaying the goods he wished to dispose of, and 



A STRANGE MEDLEY. 



367 



shouting at such a pitch as if he wished to get bids 
from the dead rather than from the living. There was 
no end to the discordant combination of shouts till long 
after nightfall. These were occasionally varied by the 
uproarious singing of the pilgrims, the unearthly intona- 
tions of the howling Dervishes, and the nasal chants of 
the Greeks. About thirty female pilgrims were from 
Russia, and the only agreeable thing about the place was 
their singing. They sat on the ground, with their heads 
bent forward and their hands clasped round their knees, 
and in this posture they sang some of their sweet melo- 
dies every evening at sunset. These were very touching, 
and had a far-away, plaintive, home character about 
them, but home as yet far in the distance. None could 
listen to them without being thrilled with emotion. 

There was no lack of life or variety in the Lazaretto : 
as to the latter, this seemed to be endless; and after the 
lapse of fifteen days, we had not even then seen all the 
varied phases of life and character in the place. There 
were French, Greeks, Turks, Maltese, Chinese, mongrel 
specimens of Hindoos, Arabs of various tribes, J ews from 
every clime (these were the dirtiest of the lot), Russians, 
Poles, Greek monks, Russian pilgrims, male and female, who 
had travelled from the far-off steppes of that vast empire, 
and were returning home with their little tin flasks filled 
with water from the Jordan ; a mendicant from Siberia, 
three hareems, two Turkish pashas, and other officials; 
Nubians from the Nile, slave boys and girls, Abyssinians 
and natives of Morocco, Circassians, Syrians, Armenians, 
wandering fakirs, rough-looking Bulgarians, Albanians, in 
their picturesque dresses, Persians, with long, shaggy, 
funnel-shaped hats, Germans, Americans, a couple of 
Scotchmen, and a solitary gentleman from the south of the 



368 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



Tweed. For a time we thought Ireland was represented, 
but on examination our friend supposed to be from " Erin's 
green isle " turned out to be a Greek, a native of Crete. 
There was, at least, a striking family likeness. We had 
some very suspicious-looking characters amongst us, and 
the less that is said about them the better. All these 
formed a strange piece of mosaic work in the motley 
pattern of Eastern life, spread before us in a very limited 
space. 

If all our attempts at sermon -making were utterly 
vain, we succeeded better at preaching ; and during the 
two Sabbaths we were in the Lazaretto, we conducted a 
religious service in a small " upper room " occupied by our 
Greek friends. The audience was very limited, but none 
who were present will ever forget those little gatherings 
at Abydos for prayer and exposition of the Word. On 
both occasions, a compact body of about sixty Moslems 
were going through their various prostrations, with a 
kind of military precision, right under our window. 

Sometimes we were inclined to think we had got into 
prison, and in a moment of abstraction we were led to 
ask ourselves what we had done to deserve this treat- 
ment; but after nightfall, when we heard all the jumble 
of discordant shouts, mingled with Greek chants and 
Bulgarian songs, our chief feeling was that, somehow or 
other, we had become the inmate of a lunatic asylum ! 

We will often think of the little bit of shingly beach 
in front of the Lazaretto, where we walked for hours 
together at "dewy morn and dusky eve," and in the sweet 
moonlight, with a young American gentleman. The pro- 
menades were delightful, even although they were secured 
by a considerable douceur to the guards every time we 
turned out. At length our term of confinement expired, 



A DOGGEKEL FAKE WELL. 



369 



and we got permission to leave. It was quite a scene to 
witness the Lazaretto disgorging its very motley contents 
of passengers and baggage. We sat down and let the 
stream of life flow past. It was a strange sight. Every 
one had something to carry, and not a few ran with beds 
and bedding on their shoulders and a great deal more! 
It is certainly not a difficult matter for a man to take up 
his bed and walk in the East, for it is but a quilt and a 
coverlet. One of our friends had been very kind to the 
Russian pilgrims in providing for their wants, and in 
token of gratitude they sang one of their sweet melodies 
at the door of our apartment. There was a general 
shaking of hands, accompanied with congratulatory smiles 
all over. 

If any of our readers should ever happen to be confined 
at Abydos, which we fondly hope will never be the case, 
it is more than likely that they will find the following bit 
of doggerel, written with a blacklead pencil, still legible on 
the wall above one of the grated windows — 

Oh! surely 'twas an adverse fate 
That drove us here in spite or hate, 

And threw us into limbo — 
With rueful looks we stand and stare, 
The very pictures of despair, 

At Turks with arms a-kimbo. 

There's nothing here but din and dirt, 
Egypt's plague on every shirt — 

Whole swarms of insect biters. 
Blest be the day that set us free! 
And sent us back once more to sea — 

Escaped from Turkish vipers. 

After all, now that it is over, we would not have missed 
that little bit of Lazaretto experience for a great deal. 
We might have travelled for years, and not seen such a 

A2 



370 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



thorough concentration of the varied phases of Eastern life. 
At the same time it is matter of thankfulness that our 
American friend's prediction, as to the adjoining cemetery, 
was not fulfilled. There can be no doubt whatever, that 
such a mode of huddling together so many passengers 
from various ships in a small space, must tend to the 
spread of disease rather than to its prevention. 

The first thing we did after we were set at liberty 
was to get a small boat and row down to the town of 
Dardanelles to express our thanks to the British and 
American consuls for their kind attentions. They were 
not permitted to approach within speaking distance of us 
during the whole fifteen days we were in the Lazaretto, 
but they very kindly sent books, newspapers, and letters, 
and did all they could to lighten the dreary days of our 
confinement. It came to an end at last, and considering 
all the horrors of the place, matters might have been a 
great deal worse. 

They took us to see one of the large forts built on the 
shore. Some of the guns are of enormous size, especially 
those for throwing stone shot. These stones are so large 
that a charge of more than three hundredweight of powder 
is required for every shot. When it does strike a ship, the 
effect must be something terrific. When returning to 
the "Austria" our Greek friends passed us in a sloop on 
the way to Smyrna, where they expected to find a boat to 
convey them to Chios. The lady who had been obliged 
to leave the former place, when she was in sight of her own 
dwelling, and go into quarantine, and who then reminded 
us of Niobe, now looked much brighter in the prospect of 
being more successful on this occasion, of getting home. 
Salutations on both sides, very significant of joy and 
gratitude for our escape, were exchanged, and should we 



CONSTANTINOPLE. 



371 



never meet again, the Abydos' experience will ever be a 
mutual memory and a bond of union. The "Austria" 
was permitted to proceed on her way, and the red-tiled 
roofs of the Lazaretto were soon lost in the distance, but 
not before a very clever song, improvised for the occasion, 
was suno- on the deck, to the no small amusement of those 
who had suffered imprisonment. 

Long before we reached Constantinople, we were 
eagerly on the look out, as we had heard so frequently 
such glowing accounts of the magnificent appearance of 
the city when seen from the Bosphorus. We steamed 
past Seraglio Point and the beautiful mosques of Stam- 
boul, with their graceful minarets, and dropped anchor 
right in front of the city, when the radiance of the 
morning sun lent additional charms to this truly wonder- 
ful scene. We have seen nothing equal to the view of 
Constantinople, as witnessed from the deck of our steamer 
that bright morning. Nothing really can be finer than 
the situation of the city, with its three districts of Pera, 
Galata, and Stamboul stretching up the slopes of its seven 
hills, and sweeping round the Bosphorus and the Golden 
Horn like a crescent. It was a master stroke of genius to 
fix upon these slopes as the site of a great capital. What 
a magnificent sweep of sea and land scenery does the eye 
take in from the shores of the Bosphorus, across the Sea 
of Marmora, to the snow-crowned summit of Olympus! 
Look away up the Golden Horn, crowded with vessels of 
every kind, from the huge merchantmen to the light and 
graceful caiques, mere skiffs, but highly ornamented, and 
of which there are thousands darting about amongst the 
immense shipping, where the flags of all nations are float- 
ing in the breeze — then look down the narrow channel of 
the Bosphorus in the direction of the Black Sea, and take 



372 



THE DESEKT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



in the many beautiful villages running up the slopes on 
either side from the water's edge, studded with gorgeous 
palaces of white stone or marble, and that view, take it 
all in all, is, probably, unequalled in the world. This was 
our impression, at least. It is a wonderful combination of 
nature and art. If you wish, however, to retain the im- 
pression, you must only look at the city from the deck of 
the ship, or from one of the fairy-looking caiques. The 
moment you enter the narrow^, steep, dirty, ill-paved 
streets, in many places filthy in the extreme, you have 
a very different side of the picture, which acts as a wet 
sheet to the rapture of your former impressions, and if 
you have any turn for poetry, it is more than likely that 
you will repeat the words — 

"'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view." 

The sanitary condition is such that you cease to wonder 
so many thousands were swept away by the last outbreak 
of cholera, when the shops and bazaars were shut up, and 
all business suspended for several weeks. We spent eight 
days in this truly wonderful city: strolled through the 
immense bazaars full of glittering wares; ascended several 
times the fire towers of Galata and Stamboul, from which 
a magnificent view is obtained of the city and its envi- 
rons; visited all the principal mosques; spent a forenoon 
within the walls of St. Sophia, and, after all, came away 
with but a confused conception of its grandeur, having 
occupied the most of the time in examining its pillars 
taken from some of the most celebrated temples of the 
ancient world. One night we witnessed a fire on a 
large scale, no unusual thing in the Turkish capital, 
where so many of the houses are built of wood. It 
was very near Myseri's Hotel, from the roof of which we 



THE BOSPHOEUS. 



saw the narrow streets surging with frantic men carrying 
water in goat skins. These, and a few hand engines, 
seemed to be the only appliances at the service of this 
immense fire brigade. All who lent a helping hand, we 
understood, would be exempted from the payment of city 
taxes for that year. It would fare ill at the year's end, 
we fear, with the municipal treasury, for the whole city 
seemed to be running wildly about. What with the 
rushing and the shouting of a fiercely excited crowd, 
carrying torches and water, and the veiling and howlhio- 
of dogs in the dark and narrow streets, whilst the lurid 
flames shot upwards and fell in showers of sparks, the 
scene was as like Pandemonium as any thing we have 
ever witnessed. 

We spent a pleasant day at Therapia ; sailed across in a 
caique to the other side; ascended a high hill crowned with 
a mosque, from the minaret of which we had a splendid view 
of the Black Sea, the Bosphorus, and the Sea of IMarmora, 
and all the varied elements of magnificent scenery embraced 
within that wide ranee. Steamers are constantly sailing 
from one place to another on the Bosphorus, and we fre- 
quently took advantage of these to visit the beautiful 
villages that line both sides of that narrow channel. In 
the most of these st eamers we found that the engineers were 
from our own country. There was an attempt lately made 
to supersede these by natives, but the collisions and other 
accidents became so numerous that the old hands were 
recalled, and we presume that even a Turk would feel rather 
nervous if he found himself in a steamer which was not 
more or less under the control of one of our countrymen, 
especially on the crowded waters of the Bosphorus. 

We sailed to Scutari, landed and inspected the im- 
mense hospital. The old formal guide who was with us 



374 



THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



seemed to feel a thrill of emotion as he pointed to Miss 
Nightingale's apartment. "Yes!" he repeated, "that was 
her room" We felt a glow of honest pride as we looked at 
the apartment where that lady won such undying honours 
by her self-sacrificing devotion. The cemetery where so 
many of our soldiers lie buried is a quiet retired corner on 
the beach, where the murmuring waves of the sea of Mar- 
mora, form the dirge of the brave, and fall mournfully 
upon the ear. Privates and officers all lie buried together,, 
they fought and fell on the same field, and have found a 
common grave on a distant shore. The simple records on 
many of the grave-stones are very touching, and the very 
name of Scutari must still send a pang to many a home 
circle for those who shall return no more. 

On Friday we witnessed the state procession which 
accompanies the Sultan when he goes to the mosque. It 
was an affair of oriental splendour. All the various races 
in the empire were represented in their peculiar costumes, 
and this had a very striking effect. When the Sultan 
rode through the crowd that lined both sides of the 
street, there was profound silence; not a word was 
spoken at any point where he passed, and the people 
looked on as solemnly as if they were engaged in an 
act of worship. 

On the afternoon of the same day, we visited the 
famous " Sweet Waters," near one of the fine palaces of 
the Sultan on the Bosphorus. It was something to see 
hundreds of the very elite of Turkish ladies, seated on. 
their quilts or riding about in their gilded coaches, and 
attended with black eunuchs. Frequently a single car- 
riage would contain a whole hareem, consisting of three 
or four wives. The most of the ladies came in beautifully 
ornamented caiques. Thousands of quilts were spread 



SCENE AT THE "SWEET WATEKS." 375 

upon the pleasure-ground, and on these the fair visitors 
sat in groups, and enjoyed themselves after their own 
fashion with sweetmeats, cigarettes, sherbet, and ices. 
There was a little music here and there, but, as we 
thought, very inferior. Few husbands were present, so 
that the ladies seemed to have it all their own way. 
Many strolled about the grounds, but by far the greater 
number sat upon the soft quilts. The scene was one of 
unrivalled brilliancy and variety as to colour. All wore 
a loose covering of very light material, that enveloped 
the whole body from the shoulders downwards, and this 
loose " over-all" was either wholly of the brightest scarlet, 
crimson, mauve, purple, orange, or green, of every possible 
shade. These colours were seen to great advantage 
in the bright radiance of the setting sun, and the cambric 
head-dress, white as the driven snow, served to bring 
them out in striking contrast. As to the ladies them- 
selves, they had a very wax-doll appearance, arising, 
we presume, from the listless, indolent life of restraint 
and confinement which they lead. Yery few, if any of 
them, and they formed the very highest class of Turkish 
hareems, were able to read. They are kept as if they 
were mere children, and as such they live and die, so far 
as education is concerned. They had gay clothing which 
presented a wonderful display of rich colours ; and when 
the bright rays of the setting sun fell on the varied groups, 
it was the most dazzling scene of the kind we have ever 
witnessed. Few, if any, of our countrywomen will be 
disposed to envy these ladies. What would any wife or 
mother in our own country think were she compelled, by 
a system established by the law and the religion of the 
land, to admit two or three wives into the home circle, 
and obliged to speak of each of them as her "co-wife," or to 



376 



THE DESEET AND THE HOLY LAND. 



use this phrase when introducing them to strangers ? This 
term signifies, in Arabic, " the one that has supplanted 
me — taken my place," as Jacob did when he deprived his 
brother Esau of his birthright. 

The bazaars of Constantinople would themselves require 
a volume. We must dismiss them for the present with 
a single sentence. Nowhere in the world is there such a 
gorgeous display of ladies' slippers; and the bazaar de] 
voted to this single article is a sight more than sufficient 
to excite the envy and admiration of those who are mosj) 
fastidious about their feet. The wonder is that feet caij 
ever get into such articles, or that it should ever hav^ 
entered into any human head to have produced such 
elaborate ornamentation for that part of the body. 

The Princes' Islands form a favourite resort of the 
Franks residing in the city, and steamers, crowded with 
passengers, are frequently plying between these and the 
Golden Horn. It was beautiful moonlight when we 
happened to be at Prinkipos. Our American friend, of 
Lazaretto memory, proposed a ride round the island, and 
for several hours after midnight we cantered along by 
the side of the sparkling waters. If his eye should 
ever fall on these pages, that moonlight trip cannot fail 
to be a bright spot in his recollections of the East. 

Next day found us crossing for the last time the long 
wooden bridge that spans the Golden Horn between 
Galata and Stamboul. That bridge when crowded with 
passengers, as it is very frequently, is one of the most 
strikingly picturesque thoroughfares in the world. The 
vast number of tarbooshes that flit past you are in them- 
selves quite a sight. Once more we ascended the fire 
tower of Stamboul and gazed intently round and round, 
till the wonderful view was more than photographed on 



DISAPPOINTMENT AT ATHENS. 



377 



our memory. The last visit we paid was to the depot of 
the British and Foreign Bible Society, and it was cheering 
to find so many tokens of progress, so many translations 
completed, and so many translators still at work. May 
the Word of the Lord, the only sure means of the world's 
progress have "free course, and be glorified !" Some ex- 
cellent Christian friends whom we had the pleasure of 
meeting at Bebek take a deep interest in the operations 
of this Society. 

We sailed from the Golden Horn in the French steamer 
" Nil " for Athens. On the day after leaving Stamboul, 
we had a delightful sail amongst the " Isles of Greece." 
The very names of these awakened stirring recollections, 
for all of them had a place in ancient song and story. 
On approaching Athens we were greatly struck with 
the resemblance between the prominent heights around 
that city and our own Arthur's Seat, the Calton Hill, 
Salisbury Crags, and the Castle Bock at Edinburgh. In 
point of situation there is no city more deserving the 
name of " Modern Athens" than our own Scottish capital. 

Great was our chagrin when, on dropping anchor at 
the Piraeus, we were told that there would not be time to 
visit the city. In some respects we felt more disappointed 
at not being permitted to visit Athens than we did when 
we received the first announcement of our fifteen days 
quarantine. We had been distinctly assured that there 
would be time enough to take, at least, a rapid run 
through the city, but on arriving at the Piraeus we 
heard a very different story. It was indeed a grievous 
disappointment to be so near the capital of Greece, 
teeming with so many historical associations, the birth- 
place of the most illustrious philosophers, patriots, poets, 
orators, statesmen, artists, and historians of ancient times, 



378 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



and yet after all not to get even a hurried stroll through 
its streets. In no very pleasant frame of mind we en- 
gaged a small boat and sailed to the tomb of Themistocles, 
who did so much to improve the naval power of Athens, 
and especially the harbour, near to which he was buried. 
Heaps of ruins are now partly under water, a proof 
that the sea must have been gaining not a little 
on this coast. The day was one of broiling heat, 
and as our expectations had been sadly thwarted, we 
speedily returned to the ship, and resumed our seat 
under the awning on the deck. Many a wistful look did 
we cast upwards to the picturesque heights that overlook 
the city, and we tried to divert the bitter current of our 
thoughts as best we could, by thinking of Paul's visit, 
and his famous oration on Mars' Hill. After all, we had 
great reason to be thankful : if we missed Athens, had we 
not been several weeks in Jerusalem? If we did not 
stand on the Acropolis, had we not passed a week on 
Sinai, and strolled again and again over the Mount of 
Olives, and seen the most sacred places of undying 
interest linked for ever to that life, the most beautiful, 
blissful, and benign ever spent on earth, and to the most 
thrilling memories that can stir the heart of man ? Con- 
soling ourselves with these reflections, better thoughts 
came upon us — cordial thankfulness took the place of 
chagrin, and we had another day's charming sail amongst 
the Greek islands, so wildly grand and rugged that they 
had an awe-inspiring look. 

Our next halting place was Messina, in Sicily, where 
we landed for a few hours, and were much pleased to 
see one of the finest streets in the town — Strada 
Garibaldi — named after the illustrious patriot. At the 
very mention of his name, the guide who conducted 



HOMEWARD BOUND. 



379 



us to various places of interest could not possibly con- 
ceal his emotion, although he strove to do so till he 
became more confident in our own sentiments. He spoke 
of Aspromonte as a great calamity, but hinted very sig- 
nificantly that it was the beginning of the end. He 
expressed his conviction that another rising was not far 
distant, and recent events have fully confirmed his views. 
By and by he threw off all restraint, his eye kindled, his 
face flushed, and he spoke of France as the evil genius of 
Italy and her patriot, whom he designated " the real king 
in the hearts of the people." Suddenly he bethought 
himself, and dropping the subject became moody and 
silent, not, however, without a quivering of his lip and a 
scornful flashing of his eye. He politely apologised for 
so far forgetting himself, as he said; but, in spite of all his 
efforts at restraint, Aspromonte was hissed out between 
his firmly set teeth more than once before we parted. 

The great abundance of bright-looking, luscious fruits 
was truly astonishing, and we invested in this article to 
an extent that was almost alarming. On returning to 
the "Nil," the deck had all the appearance of a bazaar 
or a fancy fair, for quite a crowd of vendors had spread 
their glittering and tempting wares on every available 
space, and a good stroke of business was done in nick- 
nacks, trinkets, and female ornaments of every descrip- 
tion. Many of these were made from the lava of Etna,, 
finely cut and polished, and set in gold. 

On the second day after leaving Messina, we had 
another fine view of the island of Caprera and the lonely 
dwelling of the patriot. Arrived at Marseilles, we took 
the first train to Paris — dined in the grand Hotel du 
Louvre, where a most unhappy couple, seemingly husband 
and wife, sat opposite to us— the most memorable picture 



330 



THE DESERT AND THE HOLY LAND. 



of splendid misery we have ever seen. Notwithstanding 
all the profusion of rings and jewelleiy, and rich attire, it 
was evidently an ill-assorted union. Their looks haunt us 
yet, as they rose in sullen silence from the table and 
swept out of the magnificent hall, leaving the most pain- 
ful impression on our mind of jealousy and despair. A 
rapid run to Calais — and in a little the white cliffs of 
Dover were seen rising through openings in the mist. 
The sky was dull and heavy. What a change of climate 
as compared with the bright and cloudless East! The 
train from London brought us home after midnig-ht, and 
whether it was owing to the darkness, the unseasonable 
hour, or to our semi-oriental appearance, or to all these 
combined, true it is, that at our own door our faithful 
domestic failed to recognise us, and took us at first to 
be a telegraph messenger. As we stood in silence she 
was about to shut the door, which had been reluctantly 
opened, when our well-known voice startled her, and 
awoke all the youngsters, who rushed down stairs, and 
gave us an instant and a joyous welcome. 

There had been sore sickness in our absence, but, 
thank God! the home circle was still unbroken, and five 
months had been crowded with new scenes, experiences, 
and incidents which will be more than a memory for life. 

At this point we part with our readers who have kindly 
accompanied us all the way, and making our salaam, 
according to Eastern fashion, we bid them all good bye 
for the present, hoping to meet them some other time. 



APPENDIX. 



Page 62. 
Extracts from " The Pyeamids." 

" In 1839 the annual Prize Poem for the logic Class in the Glasgow 
University was the Pyramids." 

Come, Fancy, bear me on thy airy wings 
To Egypt's fairy coast — thy magic wand 
Shall touch into diviner hues all things, 
And clothe once more with smiles the furrowed brow 
Of Father Nile, that ancient river god, 
Who, from his hidden and exhaustless source, 
Pours forth his ruddy wave, and yearly swells 
His slimy waters, rich in all that yields 
The golden treasures of the harvest home. 
How shall the muse, unaided by thy power, 
Approach this wondrous land of ancient lore '? — 
A strange enigma still ! The hoary mist 
Of countless ages and the poet's song, 
The pilgrim's marvellous tale, the eager search 
Of every country's wisest men, have made 
This early nursery of mind and art 
A greater mystery still. Conduct me where 
The hundred-gated city reared her head 
In proud magnificence, defying time ; 
Or on the plain where Memphis stood ; or where 
The gorgeous City of the Sun looked forth 
Amid her glittering minarets, and spires, 
And gem-bestudded corridors. Once, decked 
In golden beauty, like a bloomiug bride 
Amid a waste of ornaments, she poured 



382 



APPENDIX. 



A flood of sunlike glory o'er the past: 

Now prostrate obelisks, and crumbling shrines, 

And frowning sphinxes, propyla, and domes, 

And giant temples, pyramids, and towers — 

The mighty relics of departed times — 

Are grouped in hoar sublimity, and fling 

Their sombre shadows on the sands of time. 

Ye wonders of a wondering world ! that rear 
Your towering summits midway to the sky, 
With sacred awe would I approach your base, 
At rising sun, or at the noon of night, 
When Luna walks her star-bespangled way, 
And seems to linger, like a love-sick maid, 
In unveiled beauty, clear and sweetly pale, 
Around your hoary tops, with eye intense, 
As if she talked with spirits of the dead, 
While moving onward through the blue serene. 

Ye stand like everlasting hills : your age 
Is shrouded in the misty veil of time 
Which none has drawn aside. Could ye but speak, 
Oh what a wondrous story would ye tell ! 
How long, how sad — a lifetime would not serve 
To hear the half. Dwells there no voice within 
Your vaulted labyrinths, your caverns drear? 
No harp, like that of Memnon's, to unfold, 
In plaintive strains, the secrets of the tomb ? 
No oracle responsive to the Muse, 
Who seeks not knowledge of the coming times, 
But fain would know the past? What great events, 
What saddening changes to this world of change ! 
(And yet ye towering stand), what bloody wars 
Have wasted life and gold — what tyrants base 
Have waded seas of blood to empire vast, 
And scattered death and ruin in their way — 
What monstrous villanies, and fell disease. 
Have vexed the troubled earth since first, in youth, 
The dying glory of the setting sun 
Fell lingeringly around your snowy sides. 



APPENDIX. 



383 



But ye are not so dumb, for every stone 
Is fraught with life and lessons, and exclaims, 
In Fancy's ear, " Shall history dare to tell 
The century which saw us raised on high — 
When first we looked, in majesty sublime, 
Upon the prostrate earth ? Like mighty rocks 
Flung from the hand of Nature, 'mid the roar 
And dash of ocean's waves, which rage in vain 
Around their dark foundations, we have sat 
Upon our rocky citadel, and seen 
The gathering flood of years, and calmly smiled 
At all the changes of a changing world, 
That brought no change to us! And we have mocked 
The reign of fashion, and the storms of war, 
And haughty man, and all his vain attempts 
To trace our birth, which none shall ever know — 
Our age, which none shall hear — which Time himself 
Hath long, long since forgotten. We were reared 
When he was but a youth ; we shall endure 
Till, silvered o'er with age, he takes his last 
Expiring look of earth. Of all that e'er 
Has been, or shall be, we must stand confessed 
The wonder of a world — her eldest born." 

How vast your age may be, ye piles of rocks — 
Ye ponderous quarries, heaved into the air — 
Ye huge watch-towers of time — ye sentinels 
That, frowning, fix your stony gaze on man, 
Toiling and dying at your feet ! — all know 
Ye stood not, heard not, when the Almighty, armed 
With awful terrors, bade His thunders roll, 
And shook His lightnings o'er a guilty world, 
And hurled old Ocean from his ancient bed, 
To swallow up a death- devoted race. 
Yet Age sits on your brow ; and with you dwell 
The spirits of unnumbered seasons, fled 
Into the bosom of eternity. 



384 



APPENDIX. 



How often have ye seen the gladsome Nile — 
Studded with light-winged coracles and barks — 
Bright with the setting sun, o'erflow your fields. 
And, like a deluge, sweep across your plains ; 
While pillared streets aud temples, groves and spires, 
Gardens and palaces, and gilded towers, 
And broken columns, porticoes, and tombs, 
Seemed from your summits floating on his wave, 
Like party-coloured sea birds, when their plumes 
Are bathed in all the orient hues that glow 
Upon a rainbow's lovely face in spring ! 
How often have ye heard the merry din 
Of sistrums, castanets, and cymbals shrill — 
The universal shout of joyous hearts 
That followed yearly, when his waters reached 
Their highest point, and promised happy days 
And smiling harvest homes ; while thousands stooped 
Upon his banks, with lotus lilies fringed, 
And drank the sacred draught that passed their doors, 
And knelt, and worshipped, and quaffed again ! 
How often have ye seen, in ancient times, 
The charming dark-eyed maidens of your land 
Lead on the mystic dance, while music rose 
In strains of melting melody, which seemed 
To mingle with the whisperings of shades, 
And die away within your gloomy vaults ! 

Kingdoms have risen, flourished, and decayed ; 
And from their ruins mightier ones have sprung, 
Which, floated down the rapid stream of time, 
Have all been buried in Oblivion's wave 
As things that never were. How passing strange, 
That, from your rocky height, ye still look out 
Upon the glittering waters of your land, 
As ye were but of yesterday ! The voice 
Of sighing winds, which sweep in mournful gusts 
Along the surface of your ponderous steps, 
Still makes the pilgrim start, who thinks he hears 
The smothered groans of spirits wandering 



APPENDIX. 



Throughout your winding vaults. The drifting sands 

Still feel your cooling shade, on which have stood 

"The Mind old man of Scio's rocky isle" — 

The world's melodious heart — and he whose strains 

Of heavenly music charmed the dancing woods ; — 

The favourite sons of genius and of song ; — 

Fathers of law,- of literature, and art: — 

The world's famed heroes on the battle field, 

"Whom blinded nations deified at death ; 

The mighty conquerors of three thousand years ! 

Oh, this is hallowed ground ! the gathering place 
Of men from every clime. And ye have heard 
The Babel-strife of words in many tongues 
And dialects of earth. Let him retire, 
Unworthy of your looks, who cannot feel 
As if he held communion with the past, 
And all its greatest spirits. Who can stand 
Untroubled in your presence ? Here have sat 
The brave, the beautiful, the young, the old, 
The purpled tyrant, and the naked slave — 
The festal throng, the wailing funeral band ; 
They who have shivered on Siberia's plains, 
Or quenched their burning thirst in torrid climes ; 
The Jew, the Greek, the Roman, and the Gaul — 
The swarthy Indian, and the Persian lord : 
Circassians, Tartars, Turks, and Scythian hordes — 
Men of all lands, of every age and hue. 

Ye mock the search of man : hence all the doubts, 
The vain conjectures antiquarians formed 
Two thousand years ago, about your age, 
Your builders, and the end they had in view. 
Antiquity had settled on your brow, 
Your history was tradition, dark as night, 
Before the father of historians came, 
Like weary pilgrim, o'er the burning sands, 
To gaze upon your heights. Yet even he 
b2 



APPENDIX. 



Was but a novice in the misty search ; 

Threading his way through gloom, by hearsay led, 

He spoke and wrote in doubt, and so do all 

Who write about you still. Whence have ye come ? 

Like armed Minerva, sprung ye all at once, 

In hoary grandeur, from the hidden depths 

Of Libya's sandy waste ? It stretches forth 

Far westward, bare in undulating wreaths, 

And seems a shoreless ocean, bleak and vast — 

The eternal throne of barrenness, whose tide 

Of heaving, drifting sands — a moving mass 

Of desolation — ever and anon 

The sport of ruthless winds — is burying tombs, 

And fiercely sweeping o'er the plains where stood 

The proud and populous cities of the past, 

Whose teeming thousands lived, and fought, and died. 

* * * J|S * . * 

Alas, how changed ! 
Gone are the cities of the mighty dead! 
Their temples buried in the desert floods — 
Time has obtained the mastery, and now 
The screams of wheeling eagles, and the cries 
Of famished vultures, shock the travellers' ears, 
And break the awful solitude, where once 
The playful voice of mirth and gladness reigned, 
And laughing children met the joyous eye. 

Prodigious structures ! worthy of a race 
Of mighty giants, with a life as long 
As he who nearly saw a thousand springs 
Return to gladden earth, and sea, and air. 
Can it be so that ye have stood so long, 
While Vesta's cherished flame has ceased to burn, 
And Greek and Roman glory is no more: 
While Salem's towers, and palaces, and shrines, 
That looked so fair, are levelled with the dust — 
Her sceptre broken, and her scattered sons 
Are wandering children of the weary foot, 



APPENDIX. 



That find no place to rest; and Judah's harp 
Is silent as the grave ; and Memnon's voice 
Of mystery is silent? Ye have stood 
While war was raging rampant at your feet, 
And drove his blood-stained car, and nations fell. 
Saladin and the fierce Crusading hosts, 
From every part of Europe pouring forth, 
Have thundered in your ears ; and foreign slaves 
Have been your masters, sat upon your throne, 
And swayed their sceptre o'er the Pharaoh's land : 
And armed bands have met, with base intent, 
To lay your proud heads prostrate in the dust; 
And Time has tried to shake you ; but in vain — 
Their puny efforts ye have laughed to scorn. 
Ye frowning stand, majestically strong, 
And all the years of men, the most advanced, 
Compared with yours, are as a drop of rain 
To ocean's mighty depths — a fleeting hour, 
Weighed in the balance with eternity. 

-x * -x * * * 

But all is darkness ; be it ever so ! 
It is the awful mystery that hangs 
Around your mountain-greatness which begets 
The reverence, the strange sublimity 
Of thought and feeling rushing on the soul — 
The o'ershadowing Spirit of the past, that brings 
Before the burdened mind four thousand years, 
With all their stirring scenes of flood and field, 
And gods, and goddesses, and laurelled brows, 
And long forgotten worth — for ye had heard, 
For many years, the sigh of wintry winds 
Ere History was born. And when in youth 
She wished to chronicle your wondrous birth, 
On the fair bosom of her virgin scroll, 
Unsullied yet by date, or name, or change, 
Your age was wrapt in mystery. She asked 
The hoary men that lived when she was young 



388 



APPENDIX. 



And fair to look upon — before her face 

Was deeply furrowed — but they shook their heads, 

And sighed, and could not tell. Again, she asked 

The oldest nations, but the jarring sound 

Of many voices made her sick at heart : 

She asked the Mighty Dead, and from their tombs 

Came hollow whisperings in a tongue unknown : 

She looked to heaven, and asked the rolling spheres, 

But all their music to the poet's ear 

Was but the echo of a doubt which breathed 

The liquid harmony of sweetest sounds: 

She asked the eternal sands, but o'er them swept 

The wrathful wind, and they rushed fiercely by : 

She asked the Eagle, in whose daring breast 

The fire of youth was quenched — whose eye was dim, 

That oft had looked from Sinai's frowning crags, 

And gazed unwaveringly upon the sun ; — 

It wheeled around your lofty tops, till lost 

Amid the blue expanse — too nobly proud 

To deign an answer or a passing look : 

She cast her eye upon the earth, and asked 

The guardian- spirits of the rising Nile : 

She asked her father, Time ; and called to her 

Tradition, with a thousand different tongues, 

And looks as changeful as the ring-dove's neck : 

But memory had failed them, and they stood 

Abashed in wondering silence at her words. 

Stung to the heart with grief, at hope deferred, 

A wrinkle gathered on her youthful brow ; 

With trembling hand, she madly seized her scroll, 

And wrote a date, but on it dropped a tear, 

That blotted out the random-written mark 

Which Truth could not approve. And ye are still 

An ever-growing mystery, which makes 

You truly lovely in the poet's eye, 

And stamps a grandeur on your hoary looks, 

Which Time must ever deepen — ne'er efface. 



APPENDIX. 



The sun, the moon, and all the stars that gem 
The deep blue sky, the flaming brow of night, 
Your ancient friend the Sphinx, and Father Nile, 
And mom and even, and the drifting sands. 
The seasons and the winds, the Arabian hills, 
The plodding camel, and the wild gazelle, 
The wandering Arab, and the wavy palm, 
The sacred Ibis, with its snow-white plumes, 
The swift-winged bird of Jove — yea, Time himself 
Would miss yon from the desert — all would feel 
Lik e friends for loss of friends, were ye engulfed 
By some vast earthquake in the dreary waste. 

****** 

Great City of the Dead! where has the earth 
Such ancient landmarks on the waste of time ? 
"We love to gaze upon your wrinkled face; 
We deprecate the hand that would be laid, 
With impious purpose, on your honoured sides. 
This has been done, but done in vain, ye throw, 
In spite of all the violence of man, 
The surge of ceaseless change, the angry war 
Of wintry winds, a wide-spread shadow o'er 
The burning sands : and still ye tower aloft, 
Titanian temples, which, though never seen, 
But only read or heard of, fill the soul 
With notions of the true sublime, and link 
The present with four thousand years ago. 

****** 

Proud monuments of kings, whose very names 
Have perished from the records of the past; 
The oldest works of man upon the earth, 
Which Time has spared, what is the boon or gift 
Of pleasant memories, or cheering hopes 
Of future blessing to the world ye bring, 
As :he result of all the slavish toil 



390 



APPENDIX. 



Which placed yon in this wilderness of sand ? 

Alas ! what labour lost, what years mis- spent, 

What power abused ! without a single heart 

Or home improved — without an aim which sought 

To make the earth a happier dwelling-place; 

The work of wretched slaves, who toiled and died, 

And others took their place, and they, in turn, 

Dropped off in death, less valued than the stones 

They quarried from the rock, and shaped and placed 

In countless layers on your mountain sides. 

But what is all your monumental worth 

As relics of an age whose name is lost, 

And yours a dateless birth? What noble deeds 

Do ye commemorate? What name preserved, 

Which even to utter makes the world rich 

In all that dignifies our race, and warms 

The hearts of many nations? Where the name 

Of patriot, toiling for his country's good, 

And striking down some old and crushing wrong? 

Of martyr dying for the noblest truths? ' 

Or of the moral teacher who, amid 

The grossest darkness, sheds the light of heaven? 

We look in vain along your granite blocks, 

Or uncouth hieroglyxms, for any name 

Entwined with generous, most heroic deeds 

Of charity and faith. But why expect 

Such names, such virtues, from an age without 

The light of Christian truth? 

Who would compare 
Your worth as records of a single act, 
With the immortal honour which these words 
Have fixed for ever on the scroll of fame, 
Never to be effaced while time endures — 
"This humble woman did whate'er she could" — 
No monument on Egypt's plains like this. 
Turn to that upper room where widows stood 
And showed the garments which their friend, now dead,. 
Had made to cheer them in then- lonely woe : 



APPENDIX. 



Though dead she lived, and spoke to many hearts, 

And homes made glad; and, as the widows gazed 

Upon Tabitha stretched in death, and wept, 

And showed again the garments which she wrought, 

They raised a nobler monument than all 

The Pyramids which ancient kings have reared 

When these shall all have crumbled into dust, 

And every vestige disappeared from earth, 

The sacred records of immortal fame 

Ascribed to humble worth shall last for aye. 

Hail, holy light of Heaven ! — for what is man 
Without thy sacred influence? — shed thy beams, 
Illuminate my path; — inspire my thoughts, 
And lead me in those ways that brighter shine 
Unto the perfect day. Shall darkness reign, 
And settle down for ever, deep as night, 
Upon the sons of men? Oh! haste the time 
When all shall know the truth and feel its power ! 
When all the wandering tribes of Israel's sons, 
Gathered from every zone, shall gladly come, 
With outstretched arms, to own their rightful King, 
And, in His name, to claim their Fatherland — 
The boldest heralds of the Cross. They come 
To publish peace in every distant clime; 
And in the very cities where their sires 
Toiled in ignoble slavery, shall declare 
To wandering Arabs how a Saviour died 
For guilty men, and how He sits enthroned 
To bless a suffering world; and has a name 
Above all other names, though once despised, 
Yet now the most revered. Then gentle Peace, 
With olive branch and aspect mild — as when 
The golden radiance of the setting sun, 
The blush of heaven's inner glory, spreads 
O'er all the summer or the autumn sky, 
Like the great wing of Love infolding all 
The weary ones of earth — shall pour the oil 
Of holy joy upon the troubled waves 



392 



APPENDIX. 



Of strife's dark waters, healing every wound 
Of fierce contention, drying every tear, 
And bidding every nation join the song 
Of universal harmony and love 

Look down, ye awful Pyramids, and smile : 
Ye sombre waters of the Nile, look glad, 
And sparkle with delight : ye burning sands, 
Put on the garb of joy. Behold, your land 
Shall rise in pristine beauty, and resume 
Her ancient robes of loveliness, unstained 
With blood of barbarous rites, and she shall sit 
The fairest queen among the nations free, 
And on her head a coronet of joy; 
And peace, and liberty, and glad acclaims, 
Shall follow in her train. That dreary night 
Of moral darkness, which so long has reigned, 
Shall be dispelled before the brightening beams 
Of Gospel purity, and light, and love. 
Yes ! ye shall see, and at no distant day, 
The Christian Missionary take his stand 
Where once Osiris stood, while thousands fell 
And worshipped at his feet ; and ye shall hear 
The voice of Mercy and the song of Praise, 
Like angel- whispers wafted on the breeze, 
In peaceful murmurs o'er your desert wastes. 

****** 

Farewell, ye Pyramids ! my song must cease, 
And I must leave you, though with fond regret 
And lingering steps, I cast a look behind. 
The time shall come, and may not be far hence, 
When he who now, by Fancy led, approached 
The sacred height on which ye towering stand, 
Shall drop into the grave, and be forgot. 
Ye shall endure for ages yet to come, 
And generations yet unborn shall pass 
Into the land of deep forgetfulness; 



APPENDIX. 



393 



The world shall change its masters ; peace and war 

Shall bless or curse the world : — still ye remain 

But know ye well the hour is coming too, 

Nor light of sun, nor moon, nor twinkling stars, 

Shall ever gild your battling peaks again. 

Then shall ye totter on your trembling base— 

The heavens shall pass away, the earth shall reel, 

The shivered mountains rend, the valleys yawn, 

The ocean backward heave his troubled waves, 

No longer bridled by his rocks and shores ; 

The mighty angel raise his hand, and swear 

That Time shall be no more. These words pronounced, 

And Time, and you, and every living thing 

Must part at length for ever. In the wreck — 

The universal crash of smouldering worlds, 

Like atoms tossed upon a raging flood, 

Or whirling eddies on the swollen Nile, 

Borne down at last ye fall, and broken sink 

Into the general ruin, nothing more 

Than mounds of dust and rubbish on a sea 

Of drifting sand : down, down ye sink, and leave 

No trace behind. 

True worth, and that alone, 
Shall live and bloom when Nature groans her last. 
The good can never die : the just shall rise 
Fresh from the sleep of death. Their scattered dust, 
Which seemed for ever lost, shall, at the call 
Of their Redeemer, start to heavenly life 
And new-born loveliness, put on the bloom 
Of everlasting Youth ; celestial light 
Shall sparkle in their eyes. This joyous throng — 
The ransomed of the Lord — shall, rising, mount 
On wings of immortality to bliss, 
And reign triumphant in " Eternal Spring." 



394 



APPENDIX. 



(Page 313.) 

Proposal for Erecting a Protestant Church at Nazareth. 

" The town of Nazareth, occupying the same site which it did in the 
time of our Lord, has certainly strong claims upon every Christian, 
but more especially upon every Protestant, as here our Lord spent 
nearly thirty of the thirty-three years that he lived on earth. 

The existence of Latin, Greek, and Maronite Churches in Nazareth, 
with their peculiar worship, ceremonies, and teaching, so calculated 
to prevent the true knowledge of Christ and the worship of God in 
spirit and in truth, should stir up Protestant Christians to such 
efforts as shall secure the pure worship of the Son of God in His 
earthly home. 

The Protestant Community at Nazareth feels deeply the great 
disadvantage of not having a suitable Place of Worship; for the 
schoolroom in which the Services are now held is too small for the 
congregation, nor can it be arranged with the propriety and neatness 
due to a Place of Worship. An idea prevails among the inhabitants 
of Syria, that because Protestants reject outward show and ceremony, 
they have no proper public worship, and, in fact, no religion at all, 
and this idea is strengthened in Galilee, by the fact, that the Protestants 
there have no Church. 

The great poverty of most of the members of the Protestant 
Community makes it impossible for them to build a Church out of 
their own means, requiring, as it would, about 56700; though they 
have already begun to contribute towards it. Under the many trials 
they are constantly called to endure, the sympathy of their brethren, 
expressed by aiding them in building a Church, would be the greatest 
encouragement to them. They therefore beg their fellow- Christians 
and fellow-Protestants, in other countries, to assist them in erecting a 
suitable building for Divine Worship. It may not be amiss to state 
also, that the erection of such a building would give a suitable Place 
of Worship to tourists and travellers passing through Palestine, to 
whom attendance upon Divine Service, in the place so long the earthly 
home of our Divine Redeemer, would be peculiarly gratifying." 



APPENDIX. 



(Page 316.) 
The Sea of Galilee. 

The moonlight was so clear that we could see to read, without the slightest 
difficulty, M'CJieyne's beautiful hymn." 

How pleasant to me thy deep blue wave, 

sea of Galilee ! 
For the glorious One who came to save 

Hath often stood by thee. 

Fair are the lakes in the land I love, 

Where pine and heather grow, 
But thou hast loveliness far above 

What Nature can bestow. 

It is not that the wild gazelle 

Comes down to drink thy tide, 
But He that was pierced to save from hell 

Oft wandered by thy side. 

It is not that the fig-tree grows, 

And palms, in thy soft air, 
But that Sharon's fair and bleeding rose 

Once spread its fragrance there. 

Graceful around thee the mountains meet, 

Thou calm reposing sea; 
But ah, far more ! the beautiful feet 

Of Jesus walked o'er thee. 

These days are past — Bethsaida, where ? 

Chorazin, where art thou ? 
His tent the wild Arab pitches there, 

The wild reeds shade thy brow. 

Tell me, ye mouldering fragments, tell, 

Was the Saviour's city here ? 
Lifted to heaven, has it sunk to hell, 

With none to shed a tear? 



396 



APPENDIX. 



Ah ! would my flock from thee might learn 

How days of grace will flee ; 
How all an offered Christ who spurn, 

Shall mourn at last, like thee. 

And was it beside this very sea, 

The new-risen Saviour said 
Three times to Simon, "Lovest thou Me? 

My lambs and sheep, then feed." 

O Saviour ! gone to God's right hand ! 

Yet the same Saviour still, 
Graved on thy heart is this lovely strand 

And every fragrant hill. 

Oh ! give me, Lord, by this sacred wave, 

Threefold Thy love divine, 
That I may feed, till I find "uy grave, 

Thy flock — both Thine ana mine. 



APPENDIX. 



397 



(Page 328.) 

Origin of the British Syrian Schools under the Charge of 
Mrs. Thompson. 

The terrible massacres which decimated the male population of the 
Lebanon in 1860, and threw thousands of widows and orphans on the 
benevolence of European Christians, have been the means, under the 
over-ruling Providence of God, of bringing the sufferers into direct 
contact with British sympathy and Protestant care, and especially 
within the reach of an open Bible, and its blessed train of domestic 
charities. 

Without entering into the cause of the deadly feuds which for 
centuries have subsisted between the Mohamedan Rulers, the Druzes, 
and the Christian Population of the Lebanon, we will confine ourselves 
to the fearful climax of 1860, which was intended to exterminate 
the Christians. Treacherously invited by their respective Moslem 
Governers, men, women, and children fled for protection to the seraglios 
of Deir et Kamer, Rashaya, Hasbaya, and elsewhere. The men were 
disarmed, and after days of suspense, murdered in cold blood by the 
Druzes and Mohametan soldiers. The order was that every male 
from seven to seventy should be slain; thus thousands upon thousands 
were butchered ; those who escaped to Damascus were in a few weeks 
also cut down by the Mohamedans, Druzes, and Kurds. Everywhere 
their houses were rifled, and burned, and their widows and orphans 
abandoned to all the horrors of flight. 

Stained with the blood of their husbands and children, the 
sound of the murderer's axe and sword ringing in their ears, many 
thousands of women and helpless children fled distractedly they 
knew not whither. Some found their way to Tyre and Sidon, others to 
Beyrout. The details of the Lebanon Massacre must be still fresh in 
the memory of the British public, who so nobly came forward at the 
time to send large supplies of money, clothing, food, and medicine to 
these helpless sufferers. The cry of the widow comes like a voice 
from God to every sympathising heart, and perhaps to none more 
powerfully than to the widow herself. Such was the case with Mrs. 
Bowen Thompson (one of the many widows of the Crimean war,) 
whose heart God stirred up on behalf of her agonised sisters, in Syria, 
and, anxious to comfort them with the comfort wherewith she herself 



398 



APPENDIX. 



had been comforted of God, she sailed for Beyrout in October, 1860. 
On her arrival she describes the women as "sitting by hundreds 
along the roads, wild, savage, reckless, like bears bereft of their cubs, 
and resembling cattle rather than human beings." Their cry was 
"Give us bread," as they held up their famished infants and pointed 
to their shrivelled bosoms. 

Deeply moved by this sight of misery and destitution, Mrs. Thompson 
immediately set to work to find a house, and establish an Industrial 
Refuge, where these poor creatures might hear the word of God, and 
be taught some remunerative work by which to gain their own liveli- 
hood, now that the bread earners of their respective families had been 
cruelly destroyed. She then sought out some pious Syrian women, 
who had been under the teaching of the American Missionaries, and 
having rented a large house and garden for one year at £65, she 
opened in December, 1860, a Sewing School, with a class of thirty 
w T omen, and provided occasional work for one hundred and fifty others. 
It was difficult to restrain the admission, which was by ticket, all were 
so eager to earn and leam. The Anglo- Syrian Relief Committee 
supplied materials for work, and allowed one Piastre (2d.) a day for 
each woman's work, and in a short time these women marvellously 
improved in looks, and appeared in garments of their own making, so 
that within one year of the date of her arrival, Mrs. Thompson 
could describe these former wretched women as coming day by day 
to school, not only listening with deep attention to the word of God, 
read to them by a young Damascene widow, but many of them having 
the Bible in their own hands, reading with tolerable facility, and 
making satisfactory progress in needle-work. Besides this, they 
learned to write on slates, and cypher, and to sing in Arabic with 
much feeling, " My faith looks up to Thee," and similar hymns, which 
became general favourites. 

No persons were admitted without tickets, yet the gates were 
besieged by applicants clamouring for admission, saying, "Even if 
you cannot pay us for our work, only let us come in, and sit, and 
listen; for our hearts are sad and we have nothing to do." 

The girls' school, which was opened a few days after the women's, 
began with twenty and soon increased to ninety, a number far beyond 
Mrs. Thompson's power of funds and personal effort. 

It was at this juncture that Mrs. Thompson's heart was cheered 
with the intelligence, that several ladies in England, deeply impressed 




A GROUP IN THE BRITISH SYRIAN SCHOOLS AT BEYROTJT. 



APPENDIX. 



399 



with the responsibility and importance of embracing this favourable 
passing opportunity to raise the social character of these afflicted 
women, had resolved heartly to co-operate with her, and had formed 
a little association to aid her in her work in Syria. It was earnestly 
desired that the terrible disasters in the Lebanon and Damascus might 
result in some national improvement, which experience proves can 
only be laid in the moral elevation of the Female Character. Like 
all oriental females, the women of Syria had been kept in the most 
degrading ignorance and servitude, and were, with but few exceptions, 
utter strangers alike to the truth and the humanising influence of the 
gospel. The women of the East have for ages been treated as an inferior 
order of beings, not only by the Moslems, but by the ignorant Priest- 
hood of the Eastern Churches. In reviewing the result of five years' 
efforts to raise the neglected women of Syria, the Committee of "the 
Anglo Syrian Female Schools" feel that they can thank God, and 
take courage, for they recognise in what has been accomplished, the 
assurance that Syria, the cradle of our Christianity, should not want 
a Hannah, a Lois, or a Eunice, to dedicate to God's service her Samuels 
and her Timothys. Truly have the prayers of the Church for the out- 
pouring of the Holy Spirit been answered for Syria, for simultaneously 
with these and other efforts, there has sprung up seed sown by the 
American missions, in a desire for the extension of Missionary labour 
throughout that region. Natives of all sects and churches, Greek, 
Maronite, and Druze are waking up from their long slumber, and the 
old Mission Spirit which in the days of the Apostles moved the 
Church in Syria to send forth Barnabas and Paul to carry the Gospel 
to the Gentiles, may yet provoke to jealousy the Christians of the 
West. — Paper issued by the Committee of the Anglo-Syrian Female 
Schools, Bey rout. 



400 



APPENDIX. 



(Page 360.) 



Insect Population of Tiberias. 



" Except at Jerusalem, never think of attempting to sleep in a " holj" 
city." Old Jews from all parts of the world go to lay their bones upon 
the sacred soil, and as these people never return to their homes, it 
follows that any domestic vermin which they may bring with them 
are likely to become permanently resident, so that the population is 
continually increasing. No recent census had been taken when I was 
at Tiberias, but I know that the congregation of fleas which attended 
at my church alone, must have been something enormous. It was a 
carnal, self-seeking congregation, wholly inattentive to the service 
which was going on, and devoted to the one object of having my 
blood. The fleas of all nations were there. The smug, steady, im- 
portunate flea from Holywell street — the pert, jumping " puce" from 
hungry France — the wary, watchful, " pulce " with his poisoned 
stiletto — the vengeful "pulga" of Castile with his ugly knife — the 
German " floh " with his knife, and fork — insatiate — not rising from 
table — whole swarms from all the Russias, and Asiatic hordes unnum- 
bered — all these were there, and all rejoiced in one great international 
feast. I could no more defend myself against my enemies, than if I 
had been " pain a discretion " in the hands of a French patriot, or 
English gold in the claws of a Pennsylvanian Quaker. After passing 
a night like this, you are glad to pick up the wretched remains of 
your body long, long before morning dawns. Your skin is scorched 
— your temples throb — your lips feel withered and dried — your burn- 
ing eye-balls are screwed inwards against the brain. You have no 
hope but only in the saddle, and the freshness of the morning air." — 



" Eothen," page 125. 



Glasgow: aird and coghill, printers. 





